


Tony, Meet Strange

by themagicalocelot



Series: re-arranging our lives, by fate or by choice [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Canon Rewrite, Fanmix, Fate, Fluff and Angst, Infinity War, IronStrange, M/M, Magic, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Past Relationship(s), Time Loop, Time Travel, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-04-29 16:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 37,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14476374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themagicalocelot/pseuds/themagicalocelot
Summary: When Bruce tells Tony to call Steve after all these years, because an intergalactic war is about to happen, Tony figures he could do that. Sure. Or, he could spend time getting to know the new wizard on the block instead, Stephen Strange, and that sounds far more exciting.(Infinity War timeline: In which the world is ending, but Strange keeps gazing at Tony a little too sharply, and they keep staying over at each other's places a little too long, and Tony starts growing an interest in magic - or maybe, just the person using it.)





	1. tony, meet strange

**Author's Note:**

> their chemistry in infinity war was electric I was not prepared

On one hand, it’s good to be back with old friends. On the other hand, Tony absolutely loathes the way that old friends tend to just open up old wounds, and for once in his life, can’t anyone just fucking get on with things and let him live? Oh, and nearly being killed by two aliens today—one who looks like a Squidward-abomination of all things, isn’t doing wonders for his well-being right now.

“Pick up the goddamn phone, Tony,” Bruce is practically yelling in his ear at this point. His arms are raised as if he’s about to grab Tony’s head, which, if he suddenly turns green now, wouldn’t be a good thing. 

“Why do I have to do it,” Tony snaps back. “You call him, tell him about your space adventures, set the mood, and then slowly ease him into the whole universal peril thing.” He throws the phone back to Bruce, who only barely manages to catch it in his hands.

“What, no, from what I’ve heard I think you two need to build bridges,” Bruce firmly shoves it back into Tony’s chest and turns around. He hasn’t seen Bruce in a while now, but he still does that same thing, where he’s half pleading, half throwing a fit, and Tony doesn’t have the patience for any of that right now.

“It’s not my responsibility to build bridges if people keep burning them down—and that includes you, by the way,” Tony adds as Bruce disappears out the door. At least that’s over with.

“Just keep projecting your guilt on to me, it’s fine,” Tony calls out.

It’s only then that Tony remembers that Strange is still in there, staring at him in a way that seems to be urging him to _do the thing_. He can’t tell whether he’s been meaning to interrupt them this entire time or if he’s just been patiently waiting to see how this plays out.      

“You wouldn’t happen to want to make a phone call to a fossil, wouldn’t you?” Tony asks, just for good measure.

Strange just shakes his head, “Hard pass. I’d rather focus on the matter at hand, but if you really need to get the word out then I’d be happy to just send him a text. Or an email, if he’s that type of guy.”

Huh. Finally, someone pragmatic, Tony thinks to himself. Having just met Strange an hour ago, and after the initial reaction of— _magic_ —he isn’t sure how to read him yet. There’s a level of self-assurance in him that Tony doesn’t see often, especially in their fractured, shambolic mess of a team they used to call the Avengers. 

“I’d say Steve’s a bit of a traditionalist, you know, letters and pigeons are more his speed,” Tony folds his arms in, pacing towards Strange in an attempt to test the waters a little. 

“I don’t do party tricks,” Strange replies, without a hint of a smirk or anything that Tony can read into.

“Great, so we’re on the same page. Why waste time chasing up someone who isn’t here,” Tony says. “You know, I’d rather know more about you. So far on the resume there’s: keeper of an infinity stone, which, you know how I feel about that, a former neurosurgeon—”

“Mr. Stark, time is a resource that we don’t have much of now, and I think that fight outside was enough of an ice-breaker for the both of us.”

He turns away from Tony and walks up the stairs of the Sanctum, pulling his cloak off from his back. He tells Tony there’s a library in a room to the left, and a coffee machine if he needs it, but he also insists that he needs to be alone to _think_ and _work without any distractions_ and Tony’s heard all of these words before coming out of his own mouth.

Tony’s usually not the type to chase after people, so he’s not going to start doing that now with Strange, he’s just not.

 

-

 

Tony wakes up to blazing hot light coming in from the window, the smell of mahogany on his nose, pressed right into the desk he fell asleep on hours ago. He lifts his head up and looks at his surroundings— _shit_ , he’s still in Strange’s library. He spent all night doing his research not on Thanos, because there isn’t exactly a wealth of information out there on him, but rather on the new sorcerer supreme. Looking at his biography, it’s a little unsettling how similar their paths have been and yet they’ve never crossed until now.

“You know if I had known you actually stayed I would’ve gotten us takeout last night,” Strange says, voice rumbling behind him.

Tony’s kind of thrown off by this; it’s like waking up in someone’s bed and not leaving when you were meant to. But he keeps his cool, turns around while resting an elbow on the chair as to hide any signs of discomfort.

He notices that Strange is out of costume now, just long cotton trousers and a plain white t-shirt, scraggly hair hanging over his forehead. He even has a mug of steaming hot coffee in his hand; the smell of it has Tony’s neurons firing up already.

“Yeah, well, you’re not used to guests, I understand,” Tony quips. “Nothing wrong with that. I built a tower for my friends but that didn’t work out so well.”

Suddenly, there’s a look of a genuine upset on Strange’s face. He extends his arm to pass the coffee over to Tony. “I would tell you that maybe they’re not your friends, but I think a man like you would know that already.”

Tony hugs the warm cup in his hands, takes a sip of it and actually wonders if it’s been spiked with magic because it tastes _that_ good. He then notices that Strange is doing that same thing again, like he did yesterday when Bruce was around, just studying him with an intense, though not hostile, gaze.

“I should be off,” Tony gets out of his seat. “I should—I should be rounding up the others. Rhodey, Vision, and shit, where did Bruce even go.” 

“Don’t worry about that, I sent that email in the end.”

Tony blinks. “What, to Steve?”

“I sent it to everyone,” Strange shrugs. “We’ll be meeting in just under an hour.”

Things just never seem to go _well_ for Tony. He’s not ready with any information to present at the meeting, no mission plan, no nothing—but more importantly, Tony isn’t ready to face Steve for the first time after all these years. It’s the post ‘break-up’ trauma reeling back to slap him in the face, and Strange was the one who cast the line.

“I need to go,” Tony downs the rest of the coffee and heads out the room. “Where is this meeting again?”

Strange follows him briskly walking out, with a confused look on his face. “Ms. Romanoff suggested a place, I can send you the address. I know I said I’d rather be alone yesterday but that was before I realized that we need people on board to see this through.”

Tony gets to the door, grasps the handle even though his fingers are shaking, and tries his best to not flood Strange with every single drop of emotion stirring inside him right now. “You don’t understand what I’ve been through with these people, especially now, with a space maniac threatening to wipe us all out—it’s just, I need to call Pepper.”

He swings the door open and runs out, putting an earpiece back on while telling FRIDAY to call the number. Pepper picks up after the first ring, breathless and voice shaky, and Tony doesn’t know why he put her through this and why he didn’t just call her last night. She wants him home, because in her words, _I can’t believe you nearly chased a spaceship out of the atmosphere you’ve done that once already and look where that got you_ —

And she’s right. They haven't been together, not for a while, not anything that would count as a stable relationship, but they've been on good terms lately and Pepper seems genuinely happy that Tony's been taking care of himself better, and when Pepper's happy, well. That's always one way of knowing that you're doing okay. Tony doesn’t need to go through the same wormhole again but he has to, because he still has unfinished business with Thanos, even if a part of him is scared of what crossing the finish line would mean.

After a brisk walk circling the block, Tony heads to his penthouse in Manhattan and gets ready; puts a two piece-suit on—dark maroon, sunglasses, the extremis armor prepped. His phone has been buzzing for hours because Peter keeps sending him texts, mostly asking where the next Avengers meeting is and to send him the coordinates if anything comes up.

He sends a thumbs-up to Peter, sets his phone down, and it’s silent for a brief three seconds before it starts buzzing again. Tony sighs. He tells himself that the kid’s going to outgrow him one day, and deep down he knows to enjoy it while it lasts. He hasn’t thought about what to say to Steve yet, maybe some things are better left for the moment to decide. His mind has been doubly distracted too, with thoughts of Strange, and Tony isn’t sure whether that’s a deliberate choice, or, whatever.

It’s a little odd then, when he’s just about to leave his place, a giant portal appears in front of him, and there he is—Strange himself, floating up in the air in some type of spaceship, crystal needles piercing his face as he yells out _Stark!_ in painful agony. Tony doesn’t register that this is all real until he sees Spiderman swinging from behind Strange, slinging a web out of the portal and yanking Tony in until the both of them tumble inside and the portal zaps to a close.

“What the—” Tony isn’t sure if he’s even breathing at this point, panic sinking in as he looks around his surroundings. He gets the extremis armor on _immediately_ , because oh god, this is not where the meeting is supposed to be. 

“Shh, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers quietly, before shooting a web up in the air to the balcony and zipping up. Tony follows promptly, engines on the suit thrusting, before asking him _what the hell is going on_ and _what are you doing on a spaceship_ and _why did we just leave Strange down there?_

“It’s complicated, Mr. Stark. I saw Dr. Strange in the park fighting the same alien from yesterday and I had to help him.”

“Right, right. Great job, kid,” Tony nods and pats him on the back. “I can clearly see that you’re a great asset to him. Everything is fine.”

“I snuck on board when they took him,” Peter continues explaining, and Tony’s still trying to hold it together. He keeps nodding along as if trying to reassure himself, that, yes, everything is indeed fine. “That scary alien man has been doing this to him for hours trying to get the Time stone, but then he was gone.”

“He left for a bathroom break?” 

Peter pauses, thinking. “Maybe? I don’t know, but we had a small opening and Dr. Strange told me to grab his sling ring from his pocket so he could open up a portal to get you.”

“Me? He asked for me personally?” Tony asks, a little taken aback.

“Yeah, Mr. Stark. He’d know you could fix this, get us out,” Peter beams. “Oh shit, there he is.” They both duck under the railing and watch as Strange takes a couple dozen more needles to the face. It’s hard to watch, really, and Peter suddenly asks him if he’s seen the film _Alien_ , and Tony is tempted to just jettison him off in the hopes that he’d just fall back into Earth at this point, but Peter then goes on to suggest a very detailed—actually semi-viable plan to get them all out of this mess. It involves blowing a hole in the same ship that’s keeping them afloat and alive, but okay, Tony thinks it should be fine. Everything will be fine.

 

-

 

When Tony blows a hole in the spaceship, Maw (who, at last, made a point to introduce himself to them) gets sucked out as expected, but not before casting some sort of paralysis-spell on Peter; the kid can’t move a single muscle and gets dragged out of the vacuum along with Maw. Tony flies out in his armor to catch him in the wasteland of space, doesn’t even look back to see if Strange is alright, because Peter is fucking _dying_ in space and its his fault for not telling him to get out of the way when they took on Maw together. He holds him close and tells FRIDAY to get the armor off him and onto Peter, but suddenly a whole bubble encloses them.

Tony turns around and sees Strange behind him, who tries to take Peter in his arms—Tony flinches before letting go, but Strange tells him, “Trust me.”

And Tony does, not for a lack of choice in the situation—but because he actually does. Strange handles Peter with the same care and precision that a surgeon would, closes his eyes and chants something in a language Tony has never heard before as he cradles Peter’s head and body in his arms. A soft glowing green shines around Peter, and just like that, he’s breathing again. Tony doesn’t know what to say, but he takes the kid back in his embrace, hot tears flowing from his eyes. He holds him like he’s never going to let go. Strange just floats behind them, relieved but also clearly shaken enough that he can’t really bring himself to smile at this point. He opens a portal and all of them fall through back into the Sanctum together.

Peter yanks off his mask and nestles his head in Tony’s collarbone, still sobbing desperate apologies; Tony’s armor disarms as he strokes his back firmly, “You’re okay, kid. You did good. You did good.”

Tony makes eye contact with Strange over Peter’s shoulder, but the man just looks away before saying, "I need to do something.”

Before Tony can reply, the sorcerer disappears. No _thank you for risking your life for me_ , or anything like that, and Tony feels a flush of anger rising for just putting Peter in this position in the first place. He wants to direct it at Strange, but he knows it’s not entirely his fault, and then he’s just left with the debilitating feeling that this could’ve been avoided if only he had paid attention to Peter’s texts earlier on.

“Mr. Stark,” Peter looks up, sniffles gone now. “Don’t blame him. He told me to leave through the portal and get you through, but I didn’t listen.”

Tony holds up a finger, and without hesitation tells him, “Kid, if you hadn’t stayed—none of us would be here right now. But this time you’re listening to me, and you’re going home, understand? I’ll talk to Strange, makes sure he knows to thank you for saving his ass later on.”

Peter gets home in time for dinner with Aunt May, and Tony makes a point to remind Peter that under no circumstances is he to mention anything about: a) fighting alien wizards b) going up into a spaceship or c) nearly dying, because they might have gotten lucky then, but Tony has a feeling that if May finds out about this, they’d actually end up in the ground this time.

When Tony gets back to his penthouse several hours later, the lights come on and the first thing he sees is Strange there on his sofa, drinking a glass of white wine, in a stripped down version of his typical wizard costume—no cloak or tunic, just those navy blue trousers and the long sleeved top, thick leather bunching up near the wrists.

“Hope you don’t mind I cracked open one of these,” Strange says, taking another sip before exhaling. “It’s a little dry for my usual taste, but with the price tag on this thing, I shouldn’t complain.”

Tony sits down next to him and starts drumming his hands on his knees. “Dum-E, could you grab the 1811 Chateau d’Yquem for our guest. Be careful that you don’t drop it.” Dum-E makes a whirring noise in the background, and Strange seems amused at the sight of the robot roaming around the kitchen.

Tony notices that the bottle is nearly empty. “You don’t seem like the drinking type, Doc.” 

Strange chuckles meekly, eyebrows raised. “It’s true that alcohol and magic don’t mix very well, which is why I’ve asked Wong to hold the fort for the day. I think I really needed a day off.” He leans back into Tony’s sofa, eyes fluttering to a close, and Tony’s sort of in disbelief at the audacity. 

Dum-E whirrs by and nudges Strange back awake, handing him over the bottle and a new glass. Strange looks amused, “Oh, thank you. You’re a very good… robot.” Dum-E drops the corkscrew on the glass table with a loud clang, and Tony rolls his eyes, because after all these years, the thing still can’t be bothered to gently place things on surfaces.

They both just sit in silence as Strange gets the bottle open and pours himself another one, and as he brings it to his lips he gives Tony a look and mouths an exhilarated _wow_ at him. Tony just shoots back a quick grin.

“Okay, now that you’ve had,” Tony counts with his fingers the amount of glasses Strange has had, but gives up in the end, “too many glasses of my alcohol, are we going to talk about what happened?”

And then the sorcerer cracks, setting the glass down and just folding over, dropping his face into his palms. “I fucked up, I know.”

Tony is surprised by the fact that Strange is admitting this so easily—well, relatively easily, after the five glasses of wine. But still, it’s better than he used to get with Steve, who was stubborn as hell, and made Tony feel like he had to pry for every apology out of his dead bones with every inch of his being.

“I should’ve just kept both of you out of it,” Strange says, and Tony’s liking how this conversation is going. He doesn’t even need to do much to keep it like it is. “But I knew, that if I didn’t get help, then Maw would’ve taken the Time stone one way or another, and I couldn’t let that happen.”

Here’s the hitch coming.

“Stark, I’ve seen what we could face next—and I need to make this clear to you, if it comes to me choosing between you, or Peter, or anyone else, and the Time stone, I would not hesitate to choose the stone. It’s my responsibility to the universe.”

“Sure,” Tony says, and now Strange is the one who looks surprised. “I get it. Doesn’t matter who you save if Thanos has that thing, we’re all going to be dead anyway.”

“Exactly,” Strange slurs. “You get me, Stark.” He then pats him on the knee, hand pressing into it with a little more than just a fleeting touch.

Tony leans in slowly, and looks the Doctor right into his eyes, and god, they’re piercing right into him. Tony’s usually not one to forfeit eye contact, though, so he keeps at it. Strange plays this game just as well, and it kind of pisses him off if it doesn’t just make him want him more.

Wait. Tony pulls the breaks _hard_ and _fast_ on that last train of thought because shit, he wants Strange. 

“So tell me about you and Steve Rogers,” Strange is actually wasted enough to enter this line of questioning, but nope, Tony isn’t playing along. 

“You heard Bruce back in the room,” Tony says, gently removing Strange’s hand from his leg. “It was like the Beatles, the Avengers broke up.”

Strange lets out a laugh, crosses a leg over and squints at him as he gets comfortable on the sofa. “I don’t think it was that type of break up.” He picks up the hundred-thousand-dollar bottle of wine and thrusts it into Tony’s chest, liquid nearly spilling out.

Tony puts down the bottle, because he wants to prove to Strange that he doesn’t need that, not tonight, because it _doesn’t matter_ what happened between him and Steve. “You know I remember you mentioning not too long ago in recent memory that time was a finite resource, and you couldn’t waste yours by dallying around like this?”

Strange sighs, feigning disappointment. “I don't think you were paying attention when I said that I’ve seen every outcome of this, all fourteen million scenarios.”

“Are you sure, fourteen million? And this conversation right here, we need to go through this to get to Thanos,” Tony says, pointing at the both of them. “Am I being held hostage in time in my own house?”

“Maybe,” Strange says, and smiles in a way that Tony’s never seen before. Tony’s been so caught up in the _why_ and the _how_ of why Strange is here that he hasn’t realized that he’s slowly been disarming himself in front of Tony.

But the thought doesn’t get lost on Tony that he has had a _very_ stressful day, and for someone who probably doesn’t drink, like—ever (especially not in those neurosurgeon days), Strange is probably also _very_ drunk right now and they should be careful when walking this line. He’s been here before, this is familiar territory, and Tony hasn't forgotten the way that it used to be him and Steve on a couch like this, one of them drunk out of their mind (hint: it was not Steve), and dirty confessions ensued, with a heavy load of internalized guilt, and no shortage of messy sex afterwards.

Tony doesn’t realize how long he’s been in his head for, that when he looks back up, he sees Strange conjuring up a variety of shapes in the air, like putting on a light show right in the middle of his living room. They look up and the ceiling is pitch black, dusted with glowing balls of orange, falling down like snow, and Tony holds up a finger to pause, grabs his tablet, and enters the key to get the hologram of the galaxy up.

It spreads open like a web above their heads, and Strange’s mouth drops open like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Fuck me,” Strange says. “Didn’t even need to use magic.”

“Nope, just a couple hours of simple coding.” Tony spins around the hologram and zooms in on earth, right up to a satellite map of where they are right now. It even shows heat traces of people inside the building, and they both watch as it zooms in to show both of them, sitting on the couch, warm bodies close to each other but not quite touching. “So we’re here, where do you want to go next?”

Strange throws him a coy smile. “I’ve seen everything there is to see in this universe. I doubt there’s anything you can show me that I wouldn’t be able to seek on the astral plane, in this world or the next.”

And that’s when it just slaps Tony in the face, that this man truly is something else. He’s never felt that before—pure awe at someone who in many ways, was just a man like him. Sure, he’d met his fair share of brilliant minds. Bruce is one of them, but he’s also a skittish, scared scientist half the time and the other, he’s a raging green monster. And there was Vision, perhaps his greatest creation, but he never really had a connection with him, it was all an accident of particles, and not magic. No, Tony’s never believed in magic, not even when he was with Steve or Pepper, both of whom made him feel like nothing else in the universe mattered. But with Strange, it’s the exact opposite—everything in the universe, every tiny little detail, _matters_. Tony wonders why he’s spent so long trying to find someone to fill up his whole world instead of trying to find someone who would make it bigger.

Strange then starts to backtrack, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound condescending, I just—”

“Can you show me,” Tony says. It doesn’t come out as a question.

“Show you…”

“What you see. Everything,” Tony replies. “I want to see all of it.” He’s a little excited now, maybe a tiny bit scared, because technically, before a few days ago this was an entire realm that never existed to him.

Maybe Thor and Loki spoke about magic, used it, but they talk about it as if on Asgard it’s a science. And there was Wanda, except she was also a _scientific_ experiment gone wrong. Tony didn’t know that it was possible for a person to just learn all this stuff, like anything else.

“If the world wasn't heading towards its impending destruction I would be strongly against this,” Strange replies, moving in closer towards him. “I told you that I don’t do party tricks.”

“But something’s telling you I’m going to have to know things only you can show me if we’re going to make it out of this thing alive.”

“You know, with that mouth of yours I’d like to see you try to talk your way out of Thanos taking the rest of the infinity stones.”

“I thought you’ve seen every possible outcome of this. Did I not try that even once?”

“Actually, it just came back to me, you tried it 32 times and we all ended up dead,” Strange can’t suppress a giggle at the thought of this, and it all feels so bleak at this point, but Tony can’t help himself either.

“Fantastic,” Tony claps, in between wheezing. “Fuck. What you show me better blow my socks off, Strange, the entire universe is counting on you now.”

And then, Strange’s face drops and turns serious again, as if the weight of the situation has finally dawned on him. Tony feels bad for the guy now, because he of all people knows the burden of responsibility. In addition to that, also the lesson that alcohol could only fix so much, and when the intoxication lifts, you’re often left with less than what you had before.

They lock eyes again, and Strange lifts a hand onto his forehead. “I won’t show you everything, because I can’t do that to someone like you, especially, you.” And whatever that means, Tony doesn’t really want to wager a guess at this point. He just takes the advice of the sorcerer, who he trusts, and who he actually does like as a person now, so he would hope that Strange is keeping his best interests at heart.

“Close your eyes,” Strange orders, baritone firm. Tony does it, and Strange is now explaining what he’s going to be seeing, from Thanos, to Titan, to every infinity stone, and the corners of galaxies where their allies could possibly be found, including Thor, who’s actually out there at this very moment taking on the same mission as they are. And the more Strange talks, the closer Tony can feel his face moving into his, and his lips move to Tony’s ear, breath trickling down his neck.

Tony doesn’t want this to be some elaborate trick, but at the same time maybe the secrets of the universe can take a backseat if they’re going to stay _this_ close for the rest of the night. Strange cups the back of Tony’s head in one hand, thumb still pressing gently on his forehead with the other, and his fingers are brushing deep into his hair and god, Tony can almost feel his lips on his skin but it’s just not quite there and when Strange asks—

 _“Ready?”_ Tony is barely holding himself together, and he gasps before anything happens because then _everything_ happens. The entire fucking universe cracks open before his eyes and he absolutely, conclusively, could not have been ready for what he’s seeing right now.


	2. a little phsyical therapy never hurt nobody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony starts hooking up with Strange. It's a little difficult when Steve Rogers is still in the picture, somewhere in the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to everyone who left kudos and comments to the first chapter! honestly did not expect it to be this popular - but at the same time v happy that everyone is enjoying this ship as well! two notes before I go:
> 
> 1) tony and pepper are not together in this universe, so, just to clear things up. just kind of left them the same way from civil war, maybe with a few on and off again moments, but def not engaged (I will fix this plot point in the previous chapter so it's clearer)
> 
> 2) this is a steve rogers appreciation zone I noticed some fics really hate steve? but I could never? so that was just a psa from me and if you're wanting this fic to go in that direction you will be disappointed
> 
> but thank you again for the support I will reply to everyone's comments on the prev chapter asap too!

Tony wakes up sweating in layers of sheets, with a piercing headache that makes it almost impossible to get up. But he makes himself get up, because he has to, because the world is about to end and he can’t remember how or why he’s in bed like this, still in the same shirt from last night, collar unbuttoned, and tie hanging from the bedside table. He reaches out to grab his phone, but instead hits a glass on the table, thankfully nearly not hard enough for it to spill out.

He sits up, peers over and notices a note written on a piece of paper next to it. It’s barely legible, and Tony stares at it for a good fifteen seconds before actually managing to make out some of the words. Tony just assumes that it’s a hangover cure, because yes, please, all of it. It reads _doctor’s orders_ at the end of the note. Tony smiles.

It hits him, though, as he’s getting up and headed into the shower, that Strange actually did show him the entire universe last night on that magic mind bender. Standing underneath the running hot water gives him a little more clarity, and he’s just starting to comprehend that he actually took a fucking trip across the galaxies. Even for Tony ‘greatest mind on Earth’ Stark, that took a toll on his brain.

There was one more thing that he can recall, apart from the visions of Thanos, of Titan, planets colliding and worlds shrinking out of and exploding into existence. Tony stands still under the shower and yes, he’s certain that he’s remembering this right, because amidst all that, there was a vision of him, Strange, and Peter, in a high-rise apartment that wasn’t his, all sitting together on a sofa together watching television. No suits, no magic or near-fatal injuries, just Tony and Strange huddled together in one corner, with Peter stretching out from the other, legs comfortably perched on Strange’s lap. Strange kisses him, mouth open and Tony dives in to reciprocate.

He nearly chokes on the water, still tasting Strange on his tongue, the pressure easing off from his lips as the droplets run down from it.

 

-

 

Tony doesn’t see Strange, or hear from him over the next two days. He assumes that he’s back in the Sanctum, doing whatever it is that wizards do, and he’s okay with that, because like he said, he’s not chasing after him. 

He gets to that meeting in the end, half-hoping that Strange would be there but also not, because Steve is going to be there, and Tony still doesn’t know what to do with that can of worms.

“I didn’t expect you to be early,” Natasha’s voice comes up from behind him as he steps out of his car, parked behind the safehouse.

“I didn’t expect you to be waiting for me in the shadows,” Tony replies.

“We’re in broad daylight, Tony,” she says. They both start walking to the back door and she picks up bolt cutters out of seemingly nowhere to break the chains off.

“This seems perfectly legal,” Tony remarks, looking around. There’s a river rushing nearby, and it smells like haze from the city, but there are no signs of people.

“Well, some of us aren’t exactly allowed back on the compound,” Natasha replies. Tony thinks this doesn't warrant a reply.

They talk about the incoming threat with Thanos over the next couple of minutes, nothing about anything else. Natasha isn’t one to offer details about her personal life, and neither is Tony, for that matter. People start arriving, and Tony greets them all with varying levels of welcome, from Vision and Wanda, to Sam, Bruce, Rhodey—and thank god, he thinks, finally someone who he can talk to like a normal human being. Peter then turns up unexpectedly, web-slinging his way in. He does a little skip hop when he lands on his toes.

“Excuse me, what are you doing here,” Tony asks, pointing a stern finger at him. “Haven’t you had enough life-threatening trauma for a weekend?”

Peter whips off his mask, grinning from ear to ear, “Dr. Strange emailed me the invitation to the Avengers meeting, I mean, I couldn’t say no right? Especially after I saved his life on that—”

Tony puts a hand over his mouth. “We’re not talking about that.”

“Sorry I’m late, there was a bar fight downtown and nobody to clean up afterwards,” an unmistakable voice broke in.

"Hopefully not started by you," Natasha replies.

Tony looks up and sees Steve, who catches his gaze at the exact same time, who looks surprised to see him, as if for a split second he’s forgotten what they used to be. Tony sees the exact moment the memories come back.

Steve looks different, different than he used to when he was _his_ Steve, now with the facial hair and the new uniform—it almost makes him look like an entirely different person. Tony’s heart immediately skips a beat, his body feels warm in the same way it used to when Steve walked into the room and Tony knew he was going to be touched, and he would be ready for it. But there’s nothing waiting for him now, and Steve knows that too.

He reels in the first ten snarky things that come to mind, and brings them back on track instead, “Anyways, we were talking about Thanos, right. The alien warlord who’s threatening to destroy this world and countless others.”

Steve nods, without missing a beat, but before he manages to say something, Strange just struts into the room through a portal, and Tony’s mouth falls open. He’s in head-to-toe black tie, looking like he’s just walked out of an international seminar, with absolutely no right to look this good.

Steve must’ve caught him staring, because he hears him clearing his throat, and Peter then jumps forward to hug Strange, who blocks him with a handshake instead. Peter is vigorously nodding and smiling as he tells him, “Thanks for inviting me to the meeting, Dr. Strange. It was an honor to save your life when you, well—we nearly died on that spaceship. If you ever need me to do that again, or anything else, you can count on me.”

Tony sighs, glances over at Steve, who looks too tired to even be signaling disapproval right now. He then looks back at Strange, who clearly isn’t comfortable with outward signs of affection from teenagers and damn it, this is going to be one long meeting.

 

-

 

When the meeting wraps up, most of them start leaving and Tony’s left with Steve on the other side of the room, standing still, eyes to the ground. He’s doing that thing where he’s clearly waiting for Tony to come up and talk to him, and Tony just rolls his eyes and walks over. 

“I truly think you deserve more credit for your dramatic stances,” Tony says. “And they call me the diva.”

Steve looks up, and then his voice is soft. “I missed you, Tony.” 

“I—” Tony starts, as if by instinct, and then stops himself. “What am I supposed to say to that.” 

“I just wanted you to know,” Steve says. “I wish it had been the phone that rang, not an email.”

Steve has him locked in by the eyes, and Tony looks around, notices that Strange is still in the corner of the room talking to Vision and Wanda. He’s showing them the Time stone, and talking on about their responsibilities as gatekeepers of power. 

“Tony—” Steve says, and Tony cuts him off.

“Sorry, I wasn’t listening. Too caught up in the fact that the world is about to end, I’m sure you understand.” 

“Okay,” and for the first time Steve actually looks disappointed. He hasn’t exactly been all smiles all afternoon, but Tony can tell the moment when he shifts into being _cold_. “If you need anything, anytime, just call me. I’ll be on the other end of the line.”

He walks away and formally introduces himself to Strange at the other side of the room: a brief exchange, a handshake, and that’s it. Tony hears the engines of his motorcycle starting up outside and it's a safe assumption that Steve is gone now. He gets to Strange, just as Vision and Wanda are leaving, and makes a point to look him up and down.

“Going on a date?” Tony asks.

Strange smirks. “Jealous?”

“Only if you’re not about to ask me,” Tony replies, and Strange does his best to hold back an amused smile. 

“It was a speaking event with the Neurological Society,” Strange replies. “Years ago I promised a friend that I would be there when she picks up her first award for this surgery technique we invented. It was initially meant to be called the Strange-Palmer technique, but we ended up dropping my name from it.”

“That’s… really good of you,” Tony says, genuinely charmed by him now. “That’s really sweet.”

“You feeling better after last night?” 

“Oh, you know, a little sore in places I didn’t expect.”

“I don’t recall participating in any taxing physical activities,” Strange says, raising an eyebrow. 

Tony doesn’t know when to stop flirting, and sometimes that’s fine, because Tony would flirt with friends or strangers or journalists who need a distraction from the real story. It’s when he actually likes someone that it gets him into trouble.

“If you want to head back to my place, I’ll make it hard to forget,” Tony replies, inching closer towards him.

Strange just laughs, biting his lip as he slides an arm around Tony’s waist. The movement is so quick, that it barely even registers at first that Strange is actually making the first move. “I’ve always known you were persistent, but I am enjoying watching this up close.”

“Then get. Closer. Stephen.” Tony actually hates how his name is so close to sounding like _Steve_ , but he figures he’ll get used to it. A portal then opens and Strange just goes in for the kiss, pushing both of them through as Tony’s back gets pushed against the wall.

Strange is around the same height as Steve, so Tony’s used to being pinned down in almost every surface and in every position imaginable now, but the doctor seems to be a little gentler in his approach. Or maybe it's because this is their first time, and he's still testing out what gets him going. There’s less of a reliance on brute force involved, and Strange quickly relaxes when Tony starts sucking on his neck, letting out an audible moan. 

“Just so you know, I have a strict no-magic in bed rule until the third date,” Tony says, popping off the buttons on Strange’s suit. “Call me old-fashioned.”

Strange groans and just pulls Tony onto the bed with him, sits him on top and slides his hands down to unbuckle his belt. Tony notices the scars on his hand for the first time. He notices the way they tremble a little, the lines of stitches tracing down his fingers, and then the thought gets lost on him when Strange touches him bare, hands gripped around him tight as he pumps out several strokes.

Both of them remain uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the time, apart from the moans they share in between. Tony takes the time to properly lean down to kiss him, no rush, no distractions, just their faces together as their mouths melt into each other’s. Strange kisses tentatively, like he's unsure of whether to bite back when Tony does or to just take it, but the rest of his body movements more than make up for his lack of aggression on the lips. He’s really handsy, like, spectacularly so—strokes on the back, gripping on Tony’s thighs, holding on his jaw as his tongue goes in for another time. They’re oddly cohesive together, and with a good level of intuition on what feels good for the other.

When Tony really gets going inside him, Strange is unapologetically loud, with no shortage of pleas for Tony to go _harder_ and _faster_ to which Tony happily obliges, and eventually, Strange just gives up on words entirely. He’s less commanding in bed than Tony had initially expected him to be, which turns him on even more, makes him want to _do this thing right_ for him. No one's better at making someone else feel good than Tony is, no one. Strange grips onto the sheets on either side of his body and cries out Tony’s name until he’s spent.

He likes the way it sounds when people say his name in bed, and Tony wants to do the same to _Stephen_ , but bites his tongue in fear of spilling out a different name. He finishes inside him, crawling on top of him and feels their chests heaving in sync, as Strange reaches out to touch the arc reactor. 

“Can we turn the light off this thing if we ever want to fuck in the dark?” Strange asks. 

Tony just presses a button on it until it pops out of his chest. “It’s detachable, look.”

Strange just chuckles, pulling him in for another kiss, and Tony’s thinking he could really get used to this. For someone who spends most of his time thinking about how things could go south, there wasn’t really much he could think of in protest to this type of arrangement. 

It turns out, the arrangement continues working well for the both of them over the next couple of weeks. Thanos wasn’t making any big moves yet, so they’ve been focusing on safeguarding the Mind stone for now. Vision is in Wakanda undergoing some serious brain surgery, and Tony would’ve gone over to help, but according to Bruce, it seems that their royal scientist already has things under control.

So Tony preps new armor, new weapons that could possibly be compatible with the stones, for them to use if they manage to take them back from Thanos. Strange keeps guard of the Sanctum, and with the whole fourteen million possibilities still up in the air, Tony keeps asking on progress finding out which one actually shows them winning. Strange still doesn’t have an answer, apparently it’s too early to tell, and visions like that only come under moments that really tip the scales.

They continue fucking each other. Sometimes it’s just that, in between shifts at the Sanctum or being on-call for meetings with General Ross and the rest of the team, but sometimes they get a little more time with each other to just sit and talk. And it’s nice, because Strange pushes back more than most people when it comes to Tony’s quips, but the man also knows how to hold a conversation, and more importantly, Tony’s attention for hours on end, which is no small feat for anyone. 

One day, when they’re out getting lunch with Wong near the Sanctum, something starts buzzing in Tony’s pocket. It’s the flip phone.

Tony picks it up immediately. “Hello? Steve, are you okay?” He doesn’t realize how quickly the words come out of his mouth.

“Tony, it’s Bucky,” the voice says. “We got a situation with Vision and Wanda over in Wakanda.” 

“What’s wrong, where’s Steve,” Tony asks. He sees Strange glancing over him from across the table, concerned. 

“It’s a little hard to explain,” Bucky says. “I wouldn’t call if it wasn’t serious.”

Tony hangs up and without a word, Strange opens a portal to get them straight to Wakanda. They’re suddenly in a big lab, with a young woman standing over Steve’s body on an operating table. She definitely looks like the royal scientist Bruce was talking about. He's not injured, but in some type of coma. Strange rushes in to examine him.

“What happened,” Tony says.

“We’ve been working on Vision’s operation for weeks now, and Wanda tried to use her powers to speed up the process,” Shuri tells them, and Tony can already hear a sigh coming from Strange. “It didn’t work. She was impatient and angry, and there was a blowback from the energy relayed when Steve tried to calm her down.” 

“If I may,” Strange says, stepping in to place a hand over Steve’s chest. His entire body suddenly becomes translucent, and it's clear that there are spots of black and red growing everywhere inside him. It doesn't even look like anything bio-organic. Tony actually starts hyperventilating, because Steve can be so fragile and Strange doesn’t even _need_ to be here right now but it actually means the fucking world to him that he’s doing this, that he’s here.

Strange spends a couple of hours in there, insisting that he had to be alone. T’Challa stops by at one point to greet Tony and apologize that they had to meet under these circumstances. They speak for a brief moment before T'Challa leaves to resume his duties, and Bucky then ends up joining him in the waiting room. 

“He still really cares about you,” Bucky says, turning to look at him.

“I know,” Tony replies, facing straight ahead. “This visit doesn’t mean what you think it does.” 

“I know,” Bucky says.

After three excruciating hours, Strange finally pokes his head through the door, cocking his head to invite them back in. Bucky's just helping get Steve back on his feet again, and Tony manages to steal the doctor away for a moment to talk. 

“What was it in the end?” Tony asks, clasping his hands together nervously.

If anything, Strange looks glad (and maybe a little proud) to share the answer, “I’d never seen it before, which is why it took me a while to fix. Some kind of magical energy that blocked certain areas of physiological functions—if I had known what it was, I could’ve reversed it with a spell, but it seemed to attack the body at random parts, so it was like manually pulling out strands of dark energy from every inch of him. I really should talk to that Maximoff girl, I don't know what the hell she's been doing with her powers and it seems, neither does she."

“Well, I’m just glad we found the right doctor for this weirdly specific problem,” Tony smiles, and without thinking, leans in to kiss him. Even Strange seems taken aback by this, since their affections have mostly been confined to bedrooms, bedrooms and more bedrooms, in various places. But then Strange shifts his weight onto him, and Tony feels him smiling into the kiss, as his hands start digging into his hair.

When they finally pull away, Steve’s eyes are dead on them. He walks up to them, without even looking fazed, before turning to him and very politely asking, “Can I talk to you, Tony?”

Steve and Tony were never known for doing _talks_ very well, but Tony can’t run away from this one anymore. He had to face things, and hopefully, settle this thing permanently. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 12/05/18 update
> 
> tie in Steve fic, Knockout Punches - is now up! the first chapter is set around the same time as the beginning of this one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625018/chapters/33799578
> 
> same verse, same timeline, just diff POV and different journeys


	3. put a spell on me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony talks to Steve about their break up. On an unrelated note, Strange's magic gets put to various uses: surgery, sex, and a spell that goes very, very wrong.

Tony sighs, because talking to Steve gives him a headache at the best of times, but it’s worse when neither of them have been talking to the other, even if they clearly have a lot to say. Tony’s just kissed Strange in front of everyone in the room, and Strange has just saved Steve’s life, and Steve has just asked for Tony to be taken aside for a very serious, very long overdue conversation. Too many things are happening at once.

Before he goes, Strange holds him tight looks him in the eyes, checking for any signs of anxiety. He doesn’t always say it out loud, but Tony can tell when he’s worried about him. He usually just holds him in a comforting embrace. Tony doesn’t know what he’s ever done to deserve him.

“I’ll be fine,” Tony says, brushing himself off. Strange’s arms are still around his waist, and Tony presses his forehead into his chest. The cloak sweeps against the side of his head.

“You’re not the one I’m worried about,” Strange says, raising an eyebrow. “Be nice to the old man.”

“Why does your incapacity for jealousy turn me on even more,” Tony tips his head back. “God, Stephen, what do I have to do to get you riled up for once.”

“Tony, it would be a lot easier for me to be jealous if I wasn’t fairly confident that you’d be fucking me until I can’t speak again in a couple of hours,” Strange replies, matter-of-factly, as he finally peels off from him. 

“So you've seen the future. Or have you just caught me in a paradox where now the thought is in my head and you know I wouldn’t be able to resist later on.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

He’s got him there. “Be right back." 

Tony manages to find Steve outside at the end of the corridor, leaning against the wall, bearded and sullen: a little ungrateful, Tony thinks, considering he’s had a dark magic infection a couple very brief moments ago. He straightens up as Tony approaches.

“I don’t want to cause a scene, Tony,” Steve says, voice low, as if embarrassed to even be saying starting the conversation. It eases Tony a little knowing that he’s also approaching this like ripping off a band-aid. If there's anyone that's worse at intimate conversations than Tony, it's Steve. 

“You kind of already did by nearly dying back there, so I think you’re beyond saving face,” Tony says.

Steve cracks a small smile, the first he’s actually seen. Tony’s actually glad he’s relaxed a little bit, it makes this whole thing a little more bearable. Now onto the real stuff, and this is where it might hurt for one of them. 

“Alright, what do you want, Steve,” Tony asks, trying to get this whole thing over with.

“I know that we can never go back to the way things were, but honestly, Tony, my life was always better when you were in it. I know it’s more than likely that you don’t feel the same way, and that’s okay. I just…” Steve pauses to take a deep breath, and Tony genuinely can’t tell where this confession is going.

“I just feel like I owe you something,” Steve nods, resolute. “I owe you something big. I don’t know what that is, or when it’ll come around, but if it does—I _will_ be there. There’s nothing I wouldn’t say yes to.” 

Jesus. Tony’s actually forgotten how heavy-handed Steve’s apologies can be, especially when they're genuine. Suddenly, he prefers the stoic version of the soldier, the one isn't desperately pulling on the last threads of forgiveness. 

“Steve,” he says, and the other man looks up at him. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I don’t need you to sell your soul to me just because you’ve been stewing with guilt these past few years. I am doing fine, trust me.”

He gets the words out like bullets from an automatic rifle, easy, simple, no bullshit.

“But—”

Tony knows this is supposed to be a two-way conversation, but talking to Steve can be exhausting sometimes, just being around him can be _exhausting_. That was probably why Steve had to be fucking the living hell out of him most days for Tony to get the stress out of his system. 

“Honestly, Steve, I get it. You think I wasn’t spiraling in a pit of depression as well after the fallout? You don’t get to make that sacrifice for me, because sacrifices are reserved for people who love each other, and you sure as hell didn’t love me then, and if you do now,” Tony shrugs, turning around. “I don’t need it.”

“You and Strange,” he calls out, as Tony walks down the corridor. “Is it serious?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” Tony shoots back.

He goes back into the operating room to find Strange, but finds it empty instead—this royal palace is impossible to navigate, and if this were any other time, Tony would be distracted by the fact that there are _vibranium trains_ running underground beneath them. It doesn't actually sink in that he's in Wakanda right now. From the moment he found out that this place existed, he's been trying to get on the map, dreaming of the type of technological marvels he could learn from this place, but the past few years have been busy. Now that he's here, he's not sure he wants to leave. He bumps into Shuri again in the corridors, and she beams at him.

“Looking for your sorcerer?”

“Yeah, actually, but I don’t think we’ve properly introduced ourselves. Tony Stark, nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, my brother told me you were the one who created Vision in the first place. Dr. Strange is with Wanda, we left them in a confined room so that she could undergo some _training_ ,” Shuri does a not-so-subtle side eye at that last word.

“You don’t trust her?”

“She didn’t trust _me_ with what I was doing,” Shuri says in disbelief. “And I was so close to restructuring Vision’s matrix so that we could get that stone off.”

“Yeah, Wanda can be a handful,” Tony remarks. Admittedly, he doesn't know her that well, just enough to remember the lifetime of trauma she forced into his head the first time they met. That was nice. He notices that Shuri gets an alert on her watch, something to do with Vision’s status being at critical, and asks her, “Need a hand with that?”

Her eyes widen, excited. “I could use an assistant.”

They work on Vision’s matrix until the evening, and they talk about so many things in the meantime. Tony has a weapon in mind to use to defeat Thanos, a gauntlet of his own, to collect the stones back and save the world and all that. Tony takes the wheel on Vision’s coding, not that there was much left to do, she was already so close to completing it, even after Wanda’s little interruption. In return, Shuri orders a load of vibranium for him to use for the new weapon. She makes it very clear that the element isn’t leaving Wakanda, to which Tony agrees, and while she’s out getting the raw materials Tony reprograms the system to keep running overnight. Shuri said the energy needed to keep Vision stable kept short-circuiting if left on its own for too long, simply due to the sheer amount of energy needed to keep that AI-man-hybrid running, but Tony does a bit of tinkering and gets that fixed before she comes back.

“I’ve got a gift for you,” Shuri says, coming in.

“I can one-up you on that,” Tony says from under the table, crawling out. “Fixed the glitch. You don’t need to keep playing overnight nurse with Vision anymore. It’ll go up to six hours now without manual programming, up from the previous two hours, so you can go get some rest.” 

“You really are the best assistant, I wonder if T’Challa will let me keep you,” Shuri muses, then perking back up. “I promised I had something for you, too. Dr. Strange is finished with Wanda now, you can go see him.”

 

-

 

By the time Tony finds Strange again, he remembers what he said earlier, about, you know, sex until someone can't speak, and the thought is also still very clearly present in Strange's mind. The cloak is already dragging him away from Tony as they touch each other again, presumably because the piece of fabric knows how many security cameras are hidden above them. Both of them have that same look on their faces that says _bed_ and _now_ when they start grabbing each other _._ Tony closes his eyes as they kiss, and by the time they’re open again they’re back in his room, with Tony falling underneath the taller man on the bed. Strange drops the cloak and just as Tony’s about to take his own clothes off, two orange rings holds his wrists in place above his head.

“You said no magic until the third date. We had Chinese that one time for dinner, and then lunch with Wong, and now we’ve just come back from our first vacation to Wakanda together.”

“None of those would’ve exactly fit my definition of a date,” Tony says, looking at the rotating glowing rings around his arms. “But I won’t complain now, especially when you’re finally going to fuck me.”

Strange smiles, hair flopping onto his face as his head tilts down. He brushes his hair off to the side as he sits himself on top of Tony’s hips, grinding down on him. “No, Tony, I’m going to ride you.”

His hands are on Tony’s chest, and their clothes start slowly sprinkling away like fairy dust around them. He grips Tony’s waist with his legs, and does this _thing_ with his hand that makes Tony’s cock feel so, so good. He’s warm all over, but not uncomfortable, and Strange looks like he’s keeping watch of his body, orchestrating every bit of stimulation everywhere, nips on the neck, hands on his cheeks, on his back (Tony doesn’t even think about where the extra pair of hands come from), gripping the insides of his thighs, and Strange’s mouth is suddenly wet, around his cock, and at the same time Tony feels his tongue pushing into his mouth. 

He, honestly, doesn’t need to know how all this is happening. All he cares about is that it is. He moans out some variation of _Stephen, fuck_ several times, in whimpers mostly, because he can’t take it anymore. Tony doesn’t even think about Strange’s prep because _fuck_ that, if this wizard can multitask like this then another thing on the list shouldn’t be a problem.

“How’s that for an occult ritual,” Strange’s voice is low in his ear, breath hot with a vibrato that trembles all the way down his neck.

“Dirty,” Tony only manages to shakily breathe out.

“Mmm,” Strange chuckles, planting kisses on Tony’s jawline, and then slowly settles himself on Tony’s cock. He feels strokes of magic lighting up on either side of his spine, like electricity lines on a loop just going up, and he bucks his hips forward inadvertently, pushing deeper inside Strange, who cries out the loudest moan Tony’s heard from him so far.

He moves his hips harder, and this must be some form of magic energy powering him, because he’s pushing up on him so hard that Strange’s having to press his thighs in tighter around Tony’s body, steadying himself in the frenzy.

“Kind of hard to keep going without my hands,” Tony says.

Strange’s eyes are closed, mind deep in ecstasy, but the rings disappear off Tony’s wrists and he immediately goes in to grab Strange by the waist, fingers digging in hard as he helps get his rhythm going. He’s completely gone now, which makes Tony glow with pride and also admiration, because the man looks unbearably gorgeous, with sweat running down his neck, hair tossed, and his lower body is actually burning up so quickly Tony wonders if there’s an engine in there.

Tony touches him for the first time tonight, firm hand gripped around his pulsing cock, and Tony doesn’t even have to do much until Strange’s just spills himself all over his chest. Tony finishes shortly after, too, and Strange rolls off, speechless. All the magic wears off, and the only sound left in the room is the two of them, breathing, in the dead silence of their room. 

“You okay?” Tony manages to ask, and Strange just nods, eyes still closed. Tony smiles, reaches out to stroke his hair, gently kissing his temple.

In the middle of the quiet, there’s a message alert. It’s Peter.

“Shit, I gotta go,” Tony sits up, gets a hot towel out of the bedside microwave and cleans up before grabbing some clothes.

Strange opens an eye. “Is someone dying?”

“Uh, that would be me if I don’t make it there in the next five minutes. I promised Peter and May I’d sit down with them for dinner to discuss the kid’s Avenging, since you technically made it official when you invited him to that meeting.”

“So I’m the one responsible for this.”

“You are a hundred percent responsible for this,” Tony says, suiting up. “I could use a portal right now.”

“Tired,” Strange groans, sliding deeper under the sheets, and Tony wants to just shake him awake, but he just looks adorable, and he’s never seen him this vulnerable.

After putting shoes on, Tony leans over the bed and kisses him on the lips. “I swear I’ve turned you into a vegetable over these past few weeks. What would Wong say.”

Strange feigns exasperation, eyes still closed. “I don’t think you quite understand just how taxing it is to simultaneously sustain multiple spells while trying to last in bed. Let me enjoy this.”

Tony just smiles and gets the extremis armor on as the windows open. A strong breeze blows in and the suit jets him off to Peter’s apartment. He gets into the lobby just in time, and comes inside the room just as May is cooking dinner.

“Tony!” she greets him, holding a large saucepan in her hands, and nearly drops it before Peter swoops in to catch it, beef stew nearly spilling over the edge.

“Careful, Aunt May,” Peter’s eyes go wide, and brings over the saucepan to the dining table.

Tony walks over and gives her a kiss on the cheek. “How are we doing around here, need any help?”

“No, I think we’re all set and ready for important discussions tonight,” May sets down the remaining cutlery and plates. “So tell me about this new wizard Peter keeps talking about. Why can’t he just, make Thanos disappear?”

 

-

 

The dinner goes surprisingly well; May sets a lot of ground rules for Peter’s Avenging schedules, all of which Tony agrees to, much to the dismay of the teenager. He has a feeling that ninety-nine percent of those rules will inevitably end up broken, but here he is, trying anyway. He gets back to his apartment late in the evening, a little flushed from the red wine, but he’s mostly doing okay. When he enters his apartment, he sees Strange on the floor, face bruised, with Wanda standing over him, her pulsing red energy binding him.

He clicks his armor on and doesn’t even think before he shoots her. “Get the fuck out of my house!”

Wanda blocks his attacks and gets Tony trapped too, crushing the suit and holding him in the air. She looks scared, and looks down on Strange, “He did something to me.”

“For the last time, Wanda, I did not do anything to you,” Strange says, conjuring up a spell that breaks the both of them free. He gets up and tries to take her hand. “Let me show you again.”

“No!” she yells, leaping forward and grabbing him by the head. Tony sheds his suit and a new one flies in, but it comes too late as Strange’s eyes turn black, and he’s frozen in spot, and Wanda starts sobbing and saying over and over again, “This is your fault, this is your fault.” 

“Wanda, I swear to god, if you don’t start talking sense I’m going to blow your head off,” Tony says, pointing a repulsor on her. Nothing is making any sense, and he shouldn’t be picking a fight with one of their own, but again, him and Wanda have never truly been on the same side.

“Tony,” Strange mumbles, eyes still starry and lost in the darkness. “Don’t." 

“Wanda, what the _hell_ is going on,” Tony yells, and she just turns to look at him while shaking her head.

“You shouldn’t see this,” she says. “But he made me see it, and it’s inside me now. This dark energy. I can feel it, and I can’t get it out.”

“Stephen, is this true,” Tony says, inching closer to the both of them, as a tear drops from Strange’s eye. Wanda just watches him, hands still pressed on either side of his head, as if she’s forcing him in place to keep looking.

“Yes,” Strange whispers. “Yes. I am so, sorry, Wanda.”

Tony goes up to him and holds him, pushing Wanda off, and the sorcerer’s eyes return to normal, except now they look distressed, in anguish and pain. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, it’s not your fault. What’s going on, I can’t fix magical problems for magical people.”

“I tried to use the Time stone to show her several of the possible outcomes of this war, but I wasn’t prepared for the unpredictability of her chaos magic, and in turn, Wanda’s dark energy latched onto every single of those outcomes and it’s still inside her mind, festering and trying to take over.”

“Like cancer,” Tony tries to make sense of this all.

“Yes,” Strange hisses. “I am responsible for this.”

“You have to fix me,” Wanda pleads, all the anger washed away from her face now and she’s left with an exhausted, desperate look on her face. She drops down on her knees and clasps her head in her hands.

“I need to take you to the temple,” Strange says, gently taking her hands and pulling her up. “Tony, you don’t have to come.”

“I am not leaving you alone,” Tony replies, and it’s the fastest decision of his life. Two mythical places in one day, fantastic. 

Upon arriving there, Tony is in awe at the place. He goes through the training centers, finds himself in and out of magical rooms without even taking a step, and it's a little dizzying, but his mind is trying its best to keep things grounded. It barely even feels like they're on the same planet anymore. There are more of them like Strange, sorcerers, that is, and yet still no one else that comes close to the bedazzling man Tony’s falling for. Everyone has extraordinary amounts of power around here, but no one’s ever had power of Tony the same way Strange does. Wong is there to keep him company, while Strange works on Wanda. They sit on a bench overlooking the mountains, and Tony can’t even tell if the view in front of them is real or not, but it’s so beautiful that he can hardly bring himself to care.

“You carry the burden of many responsibilities,” Wong says. “So does he.”

“It’s not exactly a job most people are lining up to take,” Tony replies. “I usually trust myself to do things semi-competently on my own.”

Wong chuckles. “He used to be like that, too. He’s been trying to be a better teacher now, a better leader. But we all make mistakes." 

“I just feel like I’m out of my depth here, Wong. I’m not a—I don’t use magic. What if I can’t protect him? There’s a whole other reality that exists now, of which I know fuck-all about, and in times like this I’m just supposed what, sit out at the waiting room and make a wish so that he comes back out alive?”

Wong turns to look at him. “He told me that you worry too much. I see that now.”

And Tony exhales a laugh of relief, “Yeah, that’s me.”

“Look, Stephen’s a tough guy—”

“Tony,” Wanda’s voice suddenly emerges from behind him. She doesn't look like someone's who has just stopped a fire, more like someone who has just watched another one start. “You have to come see this.”

They all head to the room where Strange is afloat in the air, with the Time stone glowing in his fist, a wave of dark energy is spiraling around him in a circle, leaving and entering his body like bursts of water. Wanda explains that Strange tried to destroy the energy inside her, but it was too powerful and he was forced to absorb it all into his mind instead. Wanda mentions something about his _astral body_ leaving somewhere to find something to fix this, and Tony’s head is spinning in a daze, not knowing what the hell to do about this. Wong immediately conjures up a spell to try to block the flow of energy going in and out of him, tries to pull as much of it away from him as he can, but there is nowhere for any of this to go. It keeps expanding around the room, and Tony sighs as everything is in a mess in front of his eyes right now because  _god damn it, Stephen Strange, you just broke magic._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a wild chapter but hope you enjoy it! and thank you so much for all the support I promise still working my way through the comments! if you want to find me on tumblr I've been posting this fic on tyrellwells, if you want to like/reblog it there!
> 
> also currently writing a spin-off fic in the same verse featuring Steve so keep your eyes peeled :)
> 
> update 12/05/18: did it! https://archiveofourown.org/works/14625018/chapters/33799578


	4. save the doctor (and the date)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Wanda are on a mission to save Stephen from the dark dimension. Lots of angst involving those 14 million Infinity War-timeline alternate futures, with some redeeming fluff in the end, and possibly a wedding?

Despite all the Norse gods, aliens, and blasting-himself-to-space moments over the past few years of Tony's life, he’s never really thought about _magic_ that much. Sure, he knew the concept existed. Loki had it, Thor with the rainbow bridge, and hell, even Wanda, with whatever it is her powers are made of, he’d always been surrounded by one form of magic or another. It wasn’t until he met Strange that the whole thing came into full force though, tangible and real: the Sanctum, the ancient relics, the spells. Now Strange is at risk of being trapped in a dark dimension for eternity, and it's Tony's responsibility to get him out. 

“Okay, so how much time do we have to get him out?” Tony asks Wong, who’s about to blast both him and Wanda into the astral world, whatever that means.

“Less than three hours, if not the entire thing will take over Stephen’s mind and it’ll be much more difficult to break the spell then.”

“Okay, okay, sure. So, why aren’t you going in again?” Tony asks, as Wong is collecting all of the waves of dark energy in the air, pulling them into this tiny red pot. It’s half the size of his fist.

“I need to keep things under control at the temple,” Wong explains. “Wanda is strong enough to break the spell, and Stephen needs you as an anchor.”

“A what now,” Tony says. 

“A focal point, to focus. Once you get in there, it’ll be difficult to see through the fog, and the longer you stay, the more impossible it is to discern between what’s real and what isn’t. You need to be in there, guiding him. 

Tony pauses, because that’s a hell of a lot of responsibility to for him to shoulder given they’ve only known each other for a few short weeks now.

“Tony, we don’t have much time,” Wanda says. “We have to go now." 

Apparently Strange taught her how to do this whole _astral projection_ thing during their training session back in Wakanda, the exact same training session that caused this mess. First, Strange was showing Wanda bleak alternate futures, but then the dark thoughts latched onto Wanda, and in trying to get them back out, they're consuming Strange's mind now. So considering all that, Tony isn’t a hundred percent confident in Wanda’s abilities to _not_ accidentally launch both their spirits into another dimension, but what choice do they have now, they have to get Strange, and they have to get him back fast.

They settle into these rosewood chairs, capped with gold and soft silk lining, glittering over the edges. If his spirit never makes it back to his body, Tony wouldn’t mind dying on this thing. Actually, Tony wouldn’t mind dying to save Strange if it comes to it.

Wanda holds him by the wrist, and now is the time for both of them to trust each other, to let nothing get in the way of the mission at hand. He begins to feel a little lightheaded, dizzy, and feels himself drooping into the chair.

“Once we’re inside, listen to my voice and follow the string,” Wanda says, eyes closed.

“Wait, what string—”

“The one that’s going to hold us together the entire time we’re in there, so I don’t lose you. We’ll get Stephen in the bond, too, once we find him.”

Tony’s mind is fluttering to sleep. He murmurs a soft _perfect_ before everything goes black.

Everything feels cold. Hazy, dark, and cold in the astral world. Tony doesn’t even realize that he’s awake in there until he feels something hot tugging on his wrists. He can’t feel any other part of his body, but he looks at his hands, translucent and ghost-like, oh _god_ , Wanda actually did it. One of his wrists has a glowing red band on it, but everything in the air is covered in this floating black goo that he can’t see where the string leads.

“Tony?” she calls out, voice echoing through the air. 

“Yeah, I see the string,” Tony says, carefully following it through the black fog. “Coming, Wanda.” He finally manages to see through an empty spot and looks down on Wong beneath them, trying to clear the air around them. A few other sorcerers are coming in to assist, and the dark energy is slowly lifting around them. He sees himself and Wanda passed out on the chairs, bodies motionless, as Strange is still floating up in the air. Still no sign of astral Strange.

They end up leaving the room and floating outside, past the gardens and towards the mountains. The further they go, there’s even more of this dark energy staining the skies. It's impossible to escape, like blots of ink multiplying to suffocate every living being in the air, and then something catches Tony’s eye—red rings start opening and closing around them, like portals, with a dark black centre, and once he gets near one to examine it, it sucks him inside like a vacuum.

Tony falls through and sees Manhattan, on fire and completely in ruins. Not a single building standing upright, and in the center of the wreckage, Strange facing off Thanos. Tony flies in to help him until he remembers that he’s a ghost, and the suit isn’t coming on, and Strange is just left there, battered and bloody, as Thanos chokes him with the gauntlet.

“Stephen!” Tony yells out, voice broken, but no one hears him. Thanos tosses Strange into the ground and Tony leans down to hold him. Strange stretches out an arm to the side, and Tony tries to touch him, but when he looks over he realizes that Strange is reaching out to hold _him_. Another Tony, with his suit shattered into pieces, face blue, cold, defeated and already dead.

Tony feels like he’s going to be sick, before he gets yanked off his feet and Wanda comes in to hold him still.

“We’re leaving,” Wanda says.

“What the fuck is this place,” Tony exhales, trying to steady his breathing. He can feel his heart breaking out of his chest despite not even having a physical one right now.

“An alternate future,” Wanda says. “One of fourteen million.”

Jesus. She looks at him with a softness he’s never seen before, at least not towards him. She must’ve seen this already, must’ve known the pain and the suffering, of course, she has—she’s seen it in real life too when Pietro died. She holds him steady, carefully, and Tony can actually feel the warmth from her touch.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Wanda says, and she tells him not to look back as she leads them out of the portal. She destroys it when they get out.

They’re back in the mountains again now, close to its peak, and now these dark portals are everywhere. So this is what was in Wanda’s head the other night. Tony feels a pang of guilt for yelling at her the other night. She seemed so hostile to Strange, threatening him, but he can understand if all of _this_ , all _fourteen fucking million_ of these torturous scenarios were living out inside her head. He would've reacted the same.

She starts destroying them with her magic and clearing their field of vision, hundreds at a time. “What if Stephen’s in one of them,” Tony asks, worried.

“I checked,” Wanda says. “If Stephen’s astral body hasn’t entered a portal, then there would be no traces of cold energy signatures. We’ll likely be left with a few to check through, once I eliminate most of the empty ones.” She’s fully concentrated on what’s in front of her, and Tony’s never really had a chance to admire what she can do, magic wise—perhaps, since he’s been on the receiving end of it one too many times but, it is quite something.

Tony tries doing the math in his head, tries to figure out how many portals would be left by the time Wanda is done, and how much time they’ll have left to find Strange and get him out; there aren’t enough variables to get even a set range of answers. He looks at the sky and notices the positioning of the sun, mentally notes down that it has been about an hour since they’ve left their bodies on the physical plane.

They’re eventually left with around 111703 alternate futures, or realities, which Strange has left his astral trace on. Wanda manages to narrow it down to the most recent 560, by sensing which of the portals are still left unstable from Strange’s movements in and out of. She pulls them all closer towards them and pushes the rest further into the background, up at the clouds. She and Tony are still stood on the mountain, windy, snowy, ready to jump inside them.

“So, all the portals he’s been in, it’s like he’s left a kind of lock on them that’s preventing me from closing them,” Wanda explains. No wonder she just pushed those last 111703 away instead of destroying them.

“He’s probably taken a part of the reality with him,” Tony says, pointing to another one behind them. “Like some sort of magical time residue latched onto him. You’ll need to break the spell together.”

Wanda nods. “Tony?” she gazes at him, sympathetic.

“Yeah?" 

“I’ve seen all of these play out in my mind, and I know they can feel real, but they’re not.” 

Tony looks down. “They could be, though.

“Not until we actually get there, which we won’t,” Wanda firmly assures.

Here's to hoping they won't.

“I should also say sorry, for what I did to you all those years ago. You didn’t deserve it.”

He just swallows, looks at her astral figure moving about in the wind. Things generally feel less real in this dimension, but Tony can tell that she’s being genuine. “Right, well. We’re about to be diving into lifetimes of trauma, that one won’t be sticking around on my mind.”

They agree to tug on the string if either of them finds Strange, and then it’s just a game of getting everyone back on Earth—actual Earth, where their feet and touch the ground and soil is something they can feel and not just another layer where they’ll just slip through. Wanda’s the first one to jump, and Tony takes a breath, before diving straight into the first one and goddamn it, this one doesn’t even take place on Earth. Some rogue spaceman with a Missourian accent orders an attack, and a blue humanoid robot swoops past to take a stab at Thanos, only to be crushed into pieces, and the man gets stabbed through the chest, and Tony looks around to find that him and Strange are already dead on the ground, lying in some form of bubbling acid pool. Thanos uses the stones, and half the universe turns to dust. He sighs, composing himself once more to jump into the next two hundred of these totally non-depressing, lighthearted scenarios.

 

-

 

Moving so quickly in and out of these alternate futures actually numbs Tony to a lot of the brutal things that happen within then. One thing he’s learned is that the future doesn’t always play out so differently, from one version to the next the difference could be as small as Tony’s left repulsor short circuiting instead of the right, or Clint swooping in with two arrows instead of one, and so the more of them he gets through, the less he finds himself paralyzed with shock at the events unfolding because he’s now seen exactly forty-eight ways in which the Hulk tries to destroy the Infinity Gauntlet once it’s off Thanos’ hand, but for some fucking reason the big genocidal monster keeps defeating them and taking it back anyway.

He also notices another pattern, running through these things, it’s that him and Strange always end up dying side by side, or one after the other, or together, trying to save each other. He’s never on the scene early enough to see what their relationship was like leading up to the battle, but there’s this weird feeling that follows him throughout the worlds.

Sometimes, there are snippets of their last words: a half choked out _sorry_ or a bloody-mouthed _hold still_ and there were even one or two where Stephen ends up crawling on top of Tony, furiously sobbing saying _I love you_ and Thanos doesn’t even bother with a final murderous stroke, because Strange just collapses into a frenzy of madness and gets consumed by dark magic himself. 

He’s only with Steve in about five of these battles; in most, they're planets, even galaxies apart. Steve always dies jumping in front of Tony. He jumps in front of Strange one time, which gives them another two minutes of action until both Tony and Strange gets crushed by Thanos’s fists.

By the time he gets to the last portal, all he wants is for Strange to be in this one. Tony estimates that they need to get out of this place in the next twenty minutes or they’ll end up stuck in this astral _hell_. All of the portals leading to different realities have expanded and Tony can’t even see the sun anymore, or the mountain, everything’s gone pitch black and the only thing reminding him of his place is the string on his wrist. He hopes Wanda isn’t suffering nearly as much; she dies in front of him too in these things, usually as she gets so close to defeating Thanos, but it’s just never enough. One time, Wanda and Strange are away from the battlefield entirely, just nursing Tony back to health, force field around them, which Thanos can’t break through—but once the Gauntlet snaps, all three of them vanish into the air together. It’s the most peaceful end Tony has witnessed so far. 

In this last one, Tony steps into the Sanctum and sees Strange meditating near the window in front of the staircase. They’re not in the middle of battle, or anything, in fact—everything seems normal. He sees himself walk in, tugging on the cloak as Strange opens an eye. He smiles, lowering himself down as Tony prattles on about dinner reservations being pushed back. Strange just sighs but kisses him anyway, hands gently cupping the sides of his face and wait—out of the corner of his eye, Tony sees it. It’s a wedding ring, on Strange’s hand. His eyes dart down to his own hand, wrapped around Strange’s hips, and oh. It’s a perfect match.

“Tony,” someone calls out from behind him. It’s him.

“Stephen, you’re here, you’re here,” Tony breathes out and goes to hug him. He seems a little startled at first, and Tony tells him, “Hey, it’s me. Wanda and I are getting you out.”

“I need to rewrite my vows,” Strange says absentmindedly, brushing past him, ghost fading through Tony. He heads up the stairs, phasing through the other couple, discussing set menus and flower arrangements, and it hits Tony right then that they’re engagement rings.

“Stephen, wait!” Tony calls out, floating to follow him. Stephen mutters the same thing over and over again under his breath, but Tony can’t quite make out the words.

“Hey, look at me.” He manages to get him to stop, but it still feels like Stephen’s staring right through him instead. “Look at me, Stephen.”

“Tony?”

“Yes, yes it’s me.”

“We’re getting married so soon,” Stephen says, turning away. “So many things to organize, so many things to fix. Need to fix our vows.”

“Oh, um—” Tony doesn’t know whether to play along or not. Probably not, since the point is to get him out of this fantasy and not indulge in it. “Stephen, we’re not getting married.”

He looks surprised now, sad even. “We’re not?”

Tony shakes his head, tries to catch his gaze again. “We’ve only been seeing each other for a month, give or take. It’s not that serious—I don’t know, maybe not yet. But I need you, Stephen. Wanda and I need you, Wong needs you. We’re all waiting for you outside.”

“Thanos is coming.”

He knew the pin would drop soon. “Yes, this is—this is one of many futures, you’ve been inside this place for way too long.” He then sees the Eye of Agamotto still strapped around Strange’s neck, glowing brightly. “Are you using that right now?”

He looks at it, and admits, “Yes.”

“What’s wrong, Stephen, please, tell me what’s wrong,” Tony strokes the other man’s cheek, gentle and soft. Stephen breathes into the touch, eyes fluttering to a close for a brief second.

“We’re getting married fifteen days from now, and the world is going to end sixteen days from now.”

“Right. Half the universe gets wiped out,” Tony says.

“No. All of it,” Stephen replies. “It’s all or nothing in this one.”

“Oh.” Shit.

“Everything that determines the fate of the universe that day, hinges on my vows to you. Because when I made them, I knew I could never break them. I keep replaying time, stretching out this moment to see if there was any way, anything I could’ve changed to keep this from happening—”

It doesn’t even sink in yet that Stephen and Tony are getting _married_ in this universe, right before the apocalypse, nonetheless, but the fact that it’s getting Stephen so riled up—what could they have said in their wedding vows?

“Stephen, slow down, I don’t understand. If we’re all just going to end up dead anyway shouldn't we probably just move on to another scenario? Figure out another plan where we don’t end up dead?”

“No, because if we get this right, we can actually win,” Stephen says with that glint of determination in his eyes, and for the first time his face actually lights up like he’s conscious, awake, and Tony knows this is prime time to get him out of here—but he has so many questions? Like what could possibly happen at their wedding that becomes a game changer in all this?

His senses take over, reminding himself the urgency of the situation. He tugs on the string as Wanda comes flying through the portal. She hugs him, glad that he's found him, and then turns to look at Stephen.

“Doctor, are you ready to leave?” she asks. 

His eyes are anxious again, as they break their gaze away from Tony. “I have to stop—I have to—Thanos is coming, and the wedding, need to fix the speech until I get it right.”

Wanda tries following, but clearly gets lost. She gives Tony a confused look. “What’s going on?”

“Um, apparently we get married and, um, something to do with our wedding vows determines if we stop this thing?" 

Wanda’s eyes grow wide. “Wow. So if you two get married, we win?" 

Tony squirms a little, stretching his neck out to the side of his shoulders. “Not exactly, there’s a certain combination of words we need to get right in our vows, or else we all go. It’s like this impossible puzzle, and I think he’s been using the Time stone to stay in this moment in time, test out the alternate vows in this reality.”

“It’s not a reality, Tony,” Wanda’s suddenly serious again, and turns to look at Strange. “Doc, we need to go. This isn’t real. You two need to go _home_ , figure this out together.”

Tony grabs him by the shoulders, tight at first, but then starts stroking him down his arms. “Stephen, hey. I promise you, once we get to my place, we’ll write those vows together, you and me.” He bites his lip and tries to hold in a laugh because, well, a wedding wasn’t exactly on the cards and yet, Tony’s never been more ready to write lifelong promises to someone else.

Strange leans into him for a kiss, carefully and slowly, in a way they never had back home (they had literally jumped into bed together the first time and, subsequent times after that) and Tony feels a flutter of warmth building inside him. He feels hands on the back of his head, Strange’s lips gently pressing against his, and the soft stroke of his tongue in his mouth.

As they pull apart, Tony looks up at him, wide-eyed and pleading, “Take me home, Stephen, please. I want us to go home.”

"I won't let my promises to the universe break my promises to you," Stephen says. 

He holds Tony’s tightened fist in his hand, and Tony’s fingers sprawl out slowly to grasp his. Wanda hooks another string around Strange’s wrist, and pulls the three of them out of the portal. Wanda and Strange get started on a spell that burns of the darkness around them like a raging fire; the blanket of black around them crumble off and Tony can start seeing the real world again, coming through the peeling layers. He feels the wind from the mountains, the sunlight falling on his face, and as the spell breaks, they all return to their bodies in the Sanctum.

Strange is still mid-levitation when he falls through, but the cloak manages to couch the impact and barely get him back to his feet. Tony’s just shuddering from the re-entry of his spirit, and is trying his best to sit up in his seat, but it feels like all the energy has been drained straight from his body. He doesn’t know how Strange, Wanda and Wong are already all standing in a circle, staring at that tiny red pot that’s keeping all this dark energy. Strange puts the Time stone back in the Eye of Agamotto, after holding in his fist all this time, ad they all seem to be bickering about something—the use of the Time stone after this, and as per Wong’s suggestion, how it should be strictly prohibited in order to avoid catastrophes like this again.

Pushing himself out of his chair is hard enough, but Tony tries taking a step forward and he swears he can feel his spirit half-floating out of his body again. “Uh, guys. Help, I think I’m gonna—”

Non-magic users tend to find the combination of extended periods of astral projection, being surrounded by dark magic, and moving through hundreds of timelines at once, a little taxing on the physical body. Too bad no one pointed that out to Tony before he started trying to walk again, and now he’s completely fallen flat on his face, blacked out.

 

-

 

Tony really doesn’t want to be getting used to magical hangovers, but he feels like he’s going to have to deal with it, considering who he’s been sharing a bed with these days. Speaking of beds, the one he wakes up in isn’t his own. It’s Strange’s.

He’s never been at Strange’s place before. It looks nice and sleek, with a pretty view of New York but hardly any signs of personal belongings. Essentials like a bed, a sofa, a table with a couple of books on Kamar Taj, some maps are all that's left of the place. Tony also spots a glass of that weird, magical hangover drink on top of the bedside table again. The crumpled sheets beneath Tony is probably the most overt sign of life in this place. Strange has briefly mentioned that he used to have a high rise apartment before giving up most of his belongings and moving to the Sanctum, but Tony’s never thought to ask to see it since it seems he hardly spends time here anyway.

“Morning,” Strange says, walking in with a blue dressing gown, swishing about, barely anything underneath.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Sanctum?” Tony asks, yawning. 

“Wong’s got a new recruit, thought it would be a good time to train her there.”

“You owe Wong a lot of off-days,” Tony says, as he brings the moving purple water to his lips and drinks it down. Still tastes like nothing.

Strange sits himself on the edge of the bed, facing Tony. He places a hand on his knee and strokes his leg. “Are you okay? I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me back there, you and Wanda.”

Tony brushes it off. “It’s no big deal. It sure was a… situation, that had to be fixed. Wong just told me what to do, and Wanda did the whole magic string thing so I was more of a glorified assistant than anything else."

Strange drops his head down and shoots Tony a _look_. His hair falls over his face, which is always cute, and Tony’s just distracting himself at this point because he can’t help but play with it a little. Strange's lips grow into a wide smile.

“Honestly, Tony, without you I would still be stuck in there. And I know, god I know what you had to see to get me out,” Strange slowly says. “What you had to live through.”

“Wanda’s lived through more.”

“But I care about _you,_ ” Strange responds, firm. He takes a breath before glancing back at Tony, a tender expression in his eyes. “Which is why, I’m offering… to take it away from your memories if you want me to.”

“No way,” Tony replies far too quickly.

“No?” Strange replies, confused. 

“No, what I saw was important. Clearly, I need to remember all the things _not_ to do when we face Thanos, which is a pretty long list already. But more importantly, the thing that we probably should do, as in—” Strange’s cheeks go bright red.

“Our wedding.”

Tony grins. “Our wedding.”

There's a small, awkward silence in the air before Strange just throws his hands into his face, “I don’t know, I feel like we’re not even there yet. Far from it, actually.” He starts stammering, a little embarrassed, Tony might add, but adorable still. He was clearly hoping that Tony wouldn’t remember this, considering how much he was going on and on about their god damn vows when they were in there.

“We’ll get there. Look, I know this is a new thing, and I’m not saying we book a venue for tomorrow and start sending out invitations, but it’s a direction we clearly need to be heading towards, for the good of humanity. I know you're a practical man, Stephen, you nearly trapped yourself in that reality because that was the one where we _win_."

Strange just presses his lips together in mock agreement, “Mmhm, the good of humanity.”

“And it’s not, exactly an idea I’m opposed to? Unless you are? Because I do like you, Stephen. I like you a lot.”

“Maybe this is where we go wrong with our wedding vows, it just starts and ends with  _I like you a lot_.” He laughs as Tony pulls him in for a kiss, and Tony can feel him smiling as he rests his head on his shoulder. He almost doesn’t hear it when the sorcerer mumbles, “I like you a lot too.”

Maybe this isn’t going to be so bad after all. Tony’s good with words, they’re like numbers right? Put them together correctly and he'll find the winning equation. The universe should be thankful that him and Stephen are the type of people who would totally not be opposed to marrying each other to save the world. They're also the type to marry each other under the pretense of heroism, just as an excuse to spend as much time together as possible before they may or may not be turned into dust forever. Either way, good things. Tony knows he’s definitely doing the right thing here, and he knows that he’s definitely, stupidly, shamelessly falling in love with Stephen Strange.

 


	5. make your move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Strange navigate their dating life, after agreeing to marry each other For The Good Of The Universe, but as they quickly find out, the universe seems to have made other plans. 
> 
> The chess pieces are falling into place: Tony's successfully built his own version of the Infinity Gauntlet to hold both the Mind and Time Stones, an alien spacecraft lands in Wakanda threatening to take it away from them.

Tony gets different reactions to the wedding announcement—specifically two so far, from Rhodey and Pepper, who he calls to have a sit-down dinner with one night. Life tends to ebb that way; one day he’s on a spaceship fighting for his life against an alien, the next he’s in bed with Stephen Strange, the next he’s battling dark magic and living out 14 million armageddon scenarios in the _astral plane_ with Wanda Maximoff, nonetheless, and the next, _oh_ , he’s planning a wedding with the sorcerer himself 

“I don’t understand,” Rhodey says, taking another gulp of the wine before smoothing out the napkin on his lap. “You got a kink for magic now or something?”

Pepper nearly does a spit-take but sets down her drink before laying a hand on Rhodey’s wrist. “Tony does go through phases,” she says, which earns a shrug of agreement from Rhodey. 

“Okay, okay, did I not make myself clear on the whole save-the-world aspect of this?” Tony says. “We’re all going to end up toast, if we do nothing. I saw it all, burned in my mind permanently now, and Thanos won’t go away unless we make him.”

Rhodey turns serious again now. “We’re doing our best, Tony. If you want to invite Strange to our team meetings, then that would be all the more helpful. He clearly knows a lot more than we do on these stone things.”

“Yeah, Stephen’s got a full-time job of protecting our reality, kind of important that he doesn’t leave his post too often.”

“But just enough to spend time with you?” Pepper raises an eyebrow. Tony drops her the most unamused glance.

“I just—someone, please, tell me this isn’t a crazy idea.” He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, asking his friends for permission almost, pleading for them to give him the validation that he needs to go through with this. A lot has happened recently, and Tony’s got nowhere to turn to on these things—relationships, in particular, have always been difficult for him to navigate, although it doesn’t stop him from trying.

“I think if we’re really in the deep end, then I say do whatever it takes,” Rhodey replies.

“Pep?” Tony looks over at Pepper, tracing her thumb along the bottom of the wine glass, deep in thought.

“It’s not crazy, Tony,” she smiles up at him. “But it might just be if you two keep pretending that there’s nothing else to it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” 

“I’m saying if you like him enough to marry him, go on a few dates. I’m saying you’ll never be able to come up with anything for your vows if you don’t know him well enough. I’m saying,” she takes a deep breath, “if the fate of the world relies on you two, then it better be one hell of a romance.”

 

-

 

It’s been a while since Tony Stark has gone on dates, a while since he’s had to play ball with the whole courting game. Even though this time he knows Strange, knows that they like each other, knows that whatever happens, he’ll probably still go through with the wedding because _it’s for the good of the universe_ , it’s all getting a little overwhelming. There’s always a part of him waiting for the bite of swift rejection, or even the slow sting of someone gradually moving away from him.

Getting ahold of Strange can be difficult sometimes when they haven’t been spending days together—their relationship has been more of a casual one over the past few weeks, with life-threatening moments in between. He liked it, at first, the practical nature of their arrangement. Strange doesn’t get caught up in feelings too much, or at least, he doesn’t let on as much, and neither does Tony when they have bigger things on their plate. But it’s making it a little tricky for him to navigate moving forwards.

He sends him a text. _We should go out for dinner._

To his surprise, Strange replies almost immediately. _There’s a new takeaway place around the block._

Tony laughs, fingers immediately tapping away. _I mean’t dinner dinner. Champagne, suits, the full set. Let me show you off a little. _

He thinks back on the past month and realized they’d never actually been on a proper date. Strange tried to pass off their meals with Wong as ‘dates’, as well as their trip to Wakanda in which they had to save a dying Steve Rogers, which, definitely would _not_ pass as a date in Tony’s eyes.

_Sorry, busy at the Sanctum this week. Wong’s back in Hong Kong._

Tony’s heart sinks a little, but he swiftly sends back a reply. _How about next week? Promise I’ll make it worth your time._

_You’re always worth my time._

He feels a blush creeping up his neck. _You’re a darling, Strange. I’ll text you the reservation details._

Tony spends most of the week getting back to work. He keeps in contact with Shuri from Wakanda, who’s updating them on Vision’s status. They finally got the Mind stone off him, and they’re in the process of recalibrating Vision’s memories, senses and personality outputs. It’s robot therapy, basically. Tony’s also been sending Shuri the blueprints for his gauntlet design. Shuri works fast, unsurprisingly, and gets the first prototype ready within a couple of days. She fixes the Mind stone into one of the compartments on the knuckles of the glove, and Tony watches as the thing lights up. He tells Shuri not to, under any circumstances, test out the Mind stone and it’s capabilities; the only thing they need to know is that the gauntlet can take its energy and keep it stable. So far, it’s looking good.

Bruce also happens to in Wakanda, as Tony finds out while him and Shuri and video-calling.

“What is this, a party I wasn’t invited to?” Tony asks, watching Bruce fiddling with the gauntlet on camera. The feed is up on full screen in front of Tony in his workshop.

“You know you’re always welcome here!” Shuri dives into view, waving at the camera. Tony gives her a wide smile back in the middle of examining the 3-D holographic prints of the gauntlet they’re sending over. It seems to be holding the power of the Mind stone just fine, but it seems to be quite a heavy source of energy for it. They’ll definitely need to make adjustments if they were to add the Time stone to it, along with the other three (when the time comes, which it has to, and when they get it, which they have to). 

“Tony’s too busy with his new—” Bruce says.

“We’re not doing this right now, nope.” He’d forgotten about the last time he was with Bruce, he’d refused to pick up the phone to call Steve and left him stomping out of the Sanctum in a huff.

“Oh!” Shuri exclaims, eyes wide. “Of course, you and the wizard! How is he doing?”

“Great, actually, we’re going on a date tonight.” Tony splutters out, out of habit. Him and Shuri tend to prattle on about _everything_ whenever they’re having their science sessions, it’s become second nature now—they multitask like champs and Tony’s forgotten how to keep his mouth shut when someone else is in the room.

Both her and Bruce raise their eyebrows, although Bruce’s has more of a dubious look to it than Shuri’s face, which is clearly the look of someone ready for a bucket full of gossip. Tony decides this is the perfect time to end the call.

“Right, I need some peace and quiet now. Going to figure out how to increase the holding capacity of the gauntlet by… five-hundred percent before dinner. Shuri, I’ll send you a photo of my hot date tonight. Bruce, you get nothing.” 

Shuri claps and fist pumps. Bruce opens his mouth to complain but Tony hangs up before he manages to get a word out. It’s crunch time now. Tony’s always worked better under pressure, and there was no greater pressure than to finish this next prototype design in time for his date with Strange.

 

-

 

Tony rocks up to the Sanctum in his Acura, and stands in front of the door, heels bouncing, and knocks several times. He gets an answer from a girl who is not-Strange, which he hears in his mind ( _who are you seeking?_ ) and he can only reply with a confused, “Uh, Stephen?”

She tells her that he’s gone out for the evening, and Tony can only conclude that Strange has either gone to his, or is already at the restaurant. They clearly didn’t coordinate this well enough. When Tony said _I’ll see you at 7_ , it came with the implication that he’d be the one to drive him there, but of course, it was Strange, and he’d probably teleported himself to their table already and was making the napkins dance around with magic before filling up their champagne flutes with enchanted potions.

Sighing, Tony runs back to the car and tells Happy to hit the gas. His suspicions are confirmed true when he asks for his table and the server tells him that someone is waiting for him.

Strange stands up from the table as Tony walks towards him, dressed in full black tie, hair slicked back, the entire look is clean and sleek. It’s nothing outrageously extravagant, but Tony would be lying if he said that he was done for, right then and there. Strange holds him by the wrist and pulls him in in one swift movement, the deep scent of wildflowers exuding from his body.

“You’re a hard man to take out on a date,” Tony says, kissing his hand.

Strange looks at him, quizzical. “I’m here, aren’t I?" 

“Tried to pick you up at the Sanctum just now, but some girl sent a voicemail into my brain instead. It was weird.”

A flush of surprise sweeps over Strange’s face, which then quickly turns into embarrassment. “I thought when you said—”

“Don’t worry about it, should’ve made it clearer.”

Strange bites down on his lip and sighs, looking around. “Okay, this was supposed to be a surprise for later on in the evening but.” He snaps his fingers and the chatter in the room diffuses into the air, soft piano tunes slowly coming alive in the background, bluesy guitar chords joining in an up-tempo beat. It had been a full house in the restaurant when Tony walked in, but everyone suddenly vanishes like a puff of smoke, flakes of gold dust rising through the ceiling.

“Did you just—”

“It was an illusion. No one was harmed in this elaborate,” a deep sigh, and then, “party trick. I booked out the whole place for the night.” He’s looking at Tony with hopeful eyes, a wide smile breaking on his face.

Tony’s jaw drops. He’s never been out-finessed by anyone. He feels a little taken aback now, like someone’s just beaten him at his own game, but in the best way possible. He wants to ask where Strange got the money for all this, but he figures that answer can wait.

“I wanted it to be just us. No distractions.”

“I knew you were falling for me,” Tony says. 

Strange laughs and purses his lips together. “So that’s how it’s gonna be tonight?”

“Are we going to confess our deepest darkest secrets to each other now?”

“I’m game if you are, Stark,” Strange smiles, and Tony’s suddenly squinting his eyes, listening closer to the music in the background, drumming away.

“Is this Elton John and Kiki Dee’s _Don’t Go Breaking My Heart_ …?” Tony asks, a coy look on his face. Strange bites his lip and gives him a wordless wink in response, and Tony could just throw himself at this man right now if he could. He then promptly remembers, that no one else is in the restaurant, so that suddenly becomes a viable plan.

They finally manage to get into their seats after that, and the waiters come by with running champagne all night. They tuck into their meals, and _god,_ did Tony need a decent meal after the past few weeks he’d had. Tony ends up talking for most of the night, offering stories from his college years, Avengers shenanigans, and the like; and he would've been convinced that Strange isn't at all entertained by his outrageously exhaustive life, but Strange keeps asking him questions, keeps looking at him as if every story is the best thing he's ever heard. Tony would much rather listen to his stories, but Strange seems to be keeping most of his conversation limited to the past couple of years, as in, pre-accident all the way to his wizard transformation.

And it’s not that Tony isn’t loving his stories, but he is getting curious about Stephen’s background in general. He wants to go further back. Where did a man like this come from? How did he grow up, did he have any family? He can't imagine Strange hiding a family somewhere, in between full-time duties at the Sanctum, although maybe he'd be exactly the type to do that. Strange is just too good at keeping the conversation going, though, that these questions just slip through his mind as quickly as they come, and Tony's cornered into talking about the present again.

“Okay, okay,” Tony says, licking the last of the apple pie off the spoon, flicking in between his fingers. He waves it around in the air, asking, “How did you afford all this, anyway? I thought you were practically broke.”

“Officially now,” Strange corrects him. “Sold my apartment.”

“What—” Tony drops the spoon. “You sold your apartment? Why’d you do that? Stephen, you know damn well I could’ve _bought_ this whole place, and not just for a night.” He feels awfully guilty all of a sudden, for not having anticipated this. 

Strange just chuckles and rests a hand on Tony’s. “It’s okay, Tony. I don’t even live there anymore. I only brought you there the other day because Wong was training the new recruit at the Sanctum and they were doing a cleanse of the place—”

“And by cleanse, I assume you mean the mystical kind as opposed to the spring cleaning kind.”

“Precisely. So, I figured I’d just splash out.”

“You taking Wong out for dinner, too? With all the bank you have left? He deserves it,” Tony points out. 

“Already marked the date,” Strange replies. “Dates, actually. His requests are a little more… elaborate.”

“More than this?” Tony points at the empty place, easy jazz rustling in the background. Tony doesn’t even see a stereo anywhere and has no idea where all this music is coming from. Strange nods in reply, a little distracted as he hums to the bass line of the tune.

“You are full of surprises, Stephen Strange,” Tony leans in for a kiss, sneaking in a soft bite on his bottom lip.

Strange smiles into the kiss, “And you love it." 

“Oh, fuck yes,” Tony replies, sealing their lips together once more. He means it too, more than anything. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life, and there’s a flutter of excitement in him that he’s never felt before—a type of certainty, a confidence in the way they’re diving into the future like this, fearlessly, with both eyes open, side by side. He, honestly, forgets for a second, the circumstances under which they agreed to get married to, and for a fraction of that second, he just doesn’t give a damn.

 

-

 

They get a rhythm going over the next few weeks, and it’s good. It feels natural. Strange stays over at Tony’s place some nights, up late listening to records, dancing (Strange is an excellent dancer, so he discovers), and reading together before bed into the late hours of the night. Strange tried practicing his spells in Tony's room a couple of times, but after turning the entire floor invisible one time, and accidentally conjuring up rapid-growing weeds from the floor, Tony's enforced a strict magic-in-the-workshop-only rule for Strange. That way Dum-E can clean up after the mess.

Other nights Tony goes over to the Sanctum. When Strange is at the Sanctum, he’s almost always working 24/7, so Tony sets up a mini-workshop in the library, giving him something other to do than look around dusty books, much to Strange’s amusement when he pointed that out, verbatim. But during breaks Strange would sit down next to Tony and listen in on his calls with Shuri and Bruce (who’s actually warming up to him, finally) as they try to update the gauntlet to hold both the Mind and Time stones together.

He doesn’t understand much, or any of it when they start talking about the engineering of the gauntlet, but he sits there, attentively, absorbing everything in his head. He absorbs _so much information_ at once, and it’s actually a massive turn on for Tony. He remembers things from their science conversations, even when it means absolutely nothing to him—parts of equations, Tony’s rambling theories that he didn’t bother writing down the first time, they all just spit out of him like bullet trains with no direction.

They even take a couple more trips to Wakanda, as Strange uses the information discussed by the scientists to work out how to make it compatible with the spell he’s laced onto the Time stone. The Ancient One had gone through great lengths to make sure that the stone wouldn’t end up in the wrong hands, and if they were to transfer it to another compartment, Strange wasn’t about to let that spell break. He’d also managed to talk Wong into relinquishing responsibility of the stone, so that they could use it against Thanos if needed. It took a bit more than just a couple of nice dinners out to convince him, but Strange assures him that they can be trusted—Wakanda, the Avengers, _Tony._ He actually overhears his exact words that night, _I trust Tony Stark to do what’s best for the universe._

One evening, though, Strange takes a little longer than usual in the lab. Tony asks Shuri if everything is okay inside, but she waves him off and tells him to get some rest. It’s quite late, and he wants to go inside and help, but he knows how adamant Strange can be about needing to be alone to think. So he does as he’s told, and doesn’t come back until the morning. He gets woken up before his alarm goes off, though; it’s just before dawn, and there’s an alarm buzzing through the palace.

Tony jumps out of bed and upon opening the door, sees rows of the Dora Milaje running through the corridors. Tony tries to ask them what’s happening, but they all charge forward without blinking an eye. Damn it. He doesn’t see T’Challa anywhere, either. He just suits up and heads to the lab, bursting in the door as Strange is holding the gauntlet in his hands.

“We did it,” Strange says, looking at Tony. “It’s stable now.” He holds it up and Tony sees both stones, securely fastened in the knuckle compartments, energy keeping inside. He looks at Shuri, who nods at him, and around the room at all the holographic scans of the gauntlet, which all seem to look good.

“That’s great,” Tony says, “except why are your palace guards charging into battle.”

“We had an attempted breach at our borders,” Shuri says. “Alien spacecraft.”

“We need to get that thing out of here,” Tony says, pointing at the gauntlet.

“It’s not leaving Wakanda,” she snaps back.

“What if we use it,” Strange asks, waiting for a response from the two of them, both of whom say the exact same thing.

“No,” they say in unison.

“It may be stable but it hasn’t been tested,” Shuri says.

“Princess is right,” Tony concurs. “Besides, didn’t Wong say that no person has ever wielded more than one of those stones at the same time? We’re not risking it, not on my watch.”

“I can handle it,” Strange growls, growing impatient now, as the alarms keep ringing, and T’Challa is calling for everyone to get in formation at the border. "We don't have time for a discussion."

“Doc, I know you’re very, _very_ good at magic, but none of us know what the Mind stone does, except for the fact that it can hypnotize people and induce major anger issues. Hell, Vision had it on his _head_ for years, and even he never really figured out what it is.”

“Under no circumstances are we to let this fall into the wrong hands,” Strange says.

“What if you bring it to Kamar Taj? Wong?” Tony asks.

Strange shakes his head. “In a place brimming with magic like that, it could easily be destabilized by all the energy ripples. Besides, Wong wouldn’t want to risk going against the sacred oath.”

“Why would it go against the oath—” Shuri asks, but Tony has another thought suddenly enter him, and it’s not the best one, by any measure, but it’s a realistic one for now, and it’s a quick fix for what they need now.

“Give it to Steve Rogers,” Tony says.

“What?” Strange says in disbelief, and Tony’s never actually seen him look this offended, at least not at him. He’d gotten used to the heart eyes too quickly, the loving, smitten Strange, that he's almost forgotten what it was like the first time they met, the cutting bite in his voice he had when someone crossed him. He almost wishes he hadn’t said anything now.

“He owes me a favor. No one’s going to come looking for these Infinity stones in fucking _Brooklyn_. At least just until we figure out what we’re dealing with out there and once we do, you can zap him back with a portal if we need to use it.”

Strange takes a deep breath, as if trying to compose himself. “How can we trust him,” Strange asks, slowly.

 _Because he’d do anything for me, and he’d rather die than let me down at this point_ , Tony wants to say, but doesn’t, because it makes him feel like an awful person on the inside. He doesn't want to look like one on the outside, either, or make Strange feel that way.

“Because it’s a mission, and someone needs him. He's never failed a mission,” Tony says, and he's met with silence. “If it makes you more comfortable, we can send someone we both trust to keep an eye on it with him.”

T’Challa’s comes in on the main speakers telling Shuri to suit up, and she hastily gets her weapons ready before leaving the room, shifting glances at the both of them before telling them to work it out fast.

“Call the kid,” Strange says.

“What?”

“Spiderman,” Strange says, sighing, “I trust him.” And this is when Tony realizes that even though him and Strange may get on effortlessly in any other situation, this is something they clearly need to talk through in the future. Because even though Tony prioritizes Peter’s safety over most things, Strange has made it clear in the past that that’s not the case for him. 

Tony's determined not to make the same mistakes he did in the past, and shit, he hates the fact that Peter’s been reduced to a _compromise_ right now, but he can’t lose his alliance with both Strange and the universe on the same day. Strange has placed all his bets on Tony, and he can’t take that lightly, so he goes against every instinct in his bone and agrees.

Tony calls Steve—flip phone be damned, FRIDAY had saved his number for him anyway, and he picks up the other end of the line immediately.

“Tony?”

“I need your help, Steve. We made a gauntlet that’s keeping two of the Infinity stones securely locked in,” Tony explains quickly. He hears a sharp breath on the other end.

“Okay. What do you need me to do?”

“Just—just, hold on to it. Don’t go anywhere. Once we clear things up in Wakanda we’ll take it back, but we can’t let anyone, _anyone_ else touch it. Steve, I need you to promise me you can do this.”

“I won’t let you down, Tony.”

“Good,” Tony replies, and Strange is still looking at the gauntlet in his hands like he doesn’t want to let go of it. “Thank you. And take care of Peter, will you. Extra muscle in case of emergencies,” Tony adds, before clicking the line shut.

Strange opens a portal and drops the gauntlet through, and another one that sends Peter flying through into the lab and into the other portal, yelling as he gets hurled through the air. 

“I trust you’ve made the right decision,” Strange says, and the room is tense now, two of them standing a considerable distance apart, neither budging. 

“I know I did,” Tony says, and both of them head out without another word. They reach the front line where there’s been an attempted breach into the force field. T’Challa is in front, trying to make contact with the alien spacecraft parked in front of them.

“Reveal yourselves!” the king yells, “we will not yield.”

The door opens, and Tony really doesn't know what to expect, but the first thing that comes out looks like a bodybuilder from space, wide chest with red lines tracing all over his veins. He’s then followed by a lady with antennas, a blue humanoid robot and another man who just looks… human? It clicks in his mind then—they’re people from Strange’s visions of the future, the final battle with Thanos. He turns to look at the sorcerer, who's already giving him a knowing glance.

“We come in peace,” the (human) man says, raising his hands up in the air after clicking his guns back into his holsters. “Wow, Earth looks a lot different than it did the last time I was here.”

He turns to look at the bodybuilder alien, who looks like he’s just insulted him in some way, and then walks straight up to the edge of the shield and strikes a pose, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, standing upright.

He clears his throat, “My name is Star-Lord, and we know you have the Infinity stones. Surrender them to us, and we’ll leave you in peace.”


	6. who wants to play a game none of us can win

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Guardians go on a rescue mission to Vormir to try to save Gamora before Thanos makes the sacrifice. Tony and Strange come along and quickly realize that this was a bad, bad, idea.

After seeing a few (two hundred or so) outcomes of their possible final showdown with Thanos, Tony clearly remembers seeing this ragtag band of aliens in some—if not most—of them. He isn’t sure how to feel about them, considering in all of these outcomes they end up dead, defeated and discarded like parts by the Titan himself. They're apparently called the Guardians of the Galaxy, and some of them (one of them) are better at professional engagement than others. 

Tony, Strange and T’Challa come up to the barrier of the force field to talk to their leader, the others wandering behind him, apart from the blue humanoid one who keeps close. Tony doesn’t tell T’Challa that they’ve moved the new Infinity gauntlet to Brooklyn. Shuri had been given strict orders to make sure that the vibranium based materials stay in Wakanda. She had kept her lips sealed so far, and Tony owes her so much for that. Tony and Strange try to explain the situation to these new alien visitors.

“Wait, wait a minute, so you’re telling me that you two have been into the future, and we all team up and defeat Thanos together?” their leader asks, and Tony remembers his name now, _Peter Quill_ , remembers him from the visions. He remembers outcomes where they nearly get the gauntlet off Thanos, but something snaps in Quill after finding out what had happened to some girl named Gamora. Tony’s never seen her in any of the alternate outcomes, not even once. He thinks he probably shouldn’t bring that up anytime soon.

“Yes,” Strange says, patiently, after explaining it for nearly the third time now.

“Great,” Quill says, throwing his arms up in the air and breaking into a childlike grin. “So if you’d give us the two stones that you have, we can take the fight to Thanos and end him now, before Gamora gets hurt.”

There’s that name. Strange and Tony look at each other for a split second. Quill notices.

“The Infinity stones will not be leaving Wakanda,” T’Challa tells him. The blue humanoid one gives him a wordless glare, but Quill’s attention had already been taken by their previous reaction to Gamora's name.

“What is it, do you know what happens to her?” There’s a sharpness in his eyes that wasn’t there before, cuts through them immediately. Tony holds his breath and feels thankful when Strange takes the reins of the conversation again.

“Gamora will be safe,” Strange lies effortlessly, and Tony thinks about what other lies could’ve slipped past him, or anyone else for that matter. “But the Time and the Mind stone need to stay on Earth. Iron Man has built a gauntlet that can rival the one Thanos has, and if we get the Soul stone before he does, we’ll have a much better chance of facing him later.”

Tony thinks about the one outcome in which they win, thinks about the fact that he knows nearly nothing about it apart from the fact that him and Strange are married. There’s a pit in his stomach all of a sudden, as he wonders why Strange hasn’t disclosed any of the gory details of that future. What would they sacrifice? Who would they lose? What kind of choices did they have to make for them to save the rest of the universe? They haven't discussed it much since Strange had first found out about it, found out that their wedding vows are going to unlock some kind of sacred victory for all of them. Maybe the future's changed, maybe it's a dead end now, maybe—Tony stops himself from going down that line of thought. He trusts that if anything's changed for them, Strange would tell him.

“Sure, yeah, that would be a great plan if Thanos wasn’t already heading to Vormir with Gamora as we speak,” Quill says. “The Milano is still the greatest spaceship in the galaxy but she’s just burned a lot of fuel getting us all the way here, so we’re not leaving without the stones, thank you very much.” 

“If Thanos had already taken your friend to Vormir, why did you not fly directly there?” T’Challa asks. "You are wasting your time."

“We, uh, didn’t have enough fuel for the trip,” Quill replies, stuttering.

The blue humanoid rolls her eyes.

"Okay, fine. We thought we'd get our hands on the Time stone and use it..." Quill trails off, "to go back in time and stuff."

"You clearly don't have a very good grasp on the functions of the Time stone," Strange chastizes him. 

"Oh, and you do?" Quill's blood is rising.

"Mmm, I'd say I'm fairly competent."

T'Challa looks like he's ready to kick both of them outside the Wakandan borders. Tony tries to switch subjects, “He can teleport to places, open portals through space and all that. " He points at Strange, who looks like he's been caught off guard. 

“I don’t think you quite understand the monumental amount of energy required to open a portal to another _planet_ , much less one I've never been to,” Strange throws Tony a scolding glare as if it was so obvious. He felt like a kid who said the wrong answer after raising their hand.

“You managed to blast me through a portal when we were on a spaceship with Maw,” Tony says, and he's starting to get on T'Challa's bad side now as well.

“That was different, I had a mental image of where you were and I could trace your—”

“Okay, I think that’s enough,” Quill says in the most authoritative voice he can muster, but he keeps shifting glances at the two of them like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “Mr. Strange—”

“ _Doctor_.”

“Doctor Strange, please, if you could get us all to Vormir as soon as possible, I will love you for the rest of my life—” Tony blinks twice at that, but Quill keeps going. “We'll even let you keep the two stones in exchange."

"You would have never succeeded in taking them anyway," T'Challa cuts in.

"Gamora’s saved the universe—yeah, the one all of us are living in right now—more times than any of you can even imagine,” Quill continues. Strange squints, opening his mouth to say something, but the thought gets lost on him.

Quill is looking up at the sky. It’s bright and the sun is too hot to be staring directly into, but he looks like he’s searching for something. “She made me promise on my mother's life, that I’d kill her if Thanos got to her. I failed her, and now he has her. I can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

Tony sees something new in Strange’s face right then, a deep expression of compassion. Tony can tell he knows something about Gamora, has the smallest sliver of information that wouldn’t mean much to them but everything to Quill, but this isn’t the right time to ask. Tony gets ready to leave Strange to his magic, giving him the space that he often needs, but Strange takes his hand and tells him _stay, I need you with me_. And Tony does. T’Challa calls Wanda in for some magical assistance. She uses her telepathic magic on the blue humanoid, apparently, the only one who knows where Vormir actually is. Her telepathy doesn’t get used often these days, and Tony flinches a little remembering just how powerful it can be. She acts as a mediator between Strange and the alien—her name is Nebula, who apparently is Gamora’s sister, and the daughter of Thanos or something. Tony doesn’t want to begin to think about it.

Strange is floating just a few feet off the ground, cross-legged, meditative pose and deep in concentration as Wanda touches his forehead with one hand, the other on Nebula’s. He looks like he’s taking in a sizable amount of information; lines on his forehead knitted together, eyes pressed shut, forcing himself into focus, and Tony begins to start seeing droplets of sweat running from his temples. He wants to hold him, to do anything to help steady him and calm him down, but he knows he can’t risk breaking his concentration. 

He looks over and sees the Wakandans still standing strong; makes sense, T’Challa’s probably given them orders to sit tight until they manage to leave through their portal. He’s also seized Quill’s spaceship for the time being, which prompted a very vocal protest from the space cowboy, but he stops when he notices the first few sparks of a portal opening from behind them.

 _This is it_ , Tony thinks. He figures he should get Shuri on a secure line to talk about them having given the gauntlet to Steve.

“You should tell your brother,” Tony says. 

“Agreed,” she comes in on the other end of the line. Tony looks over his shoulder and can’t see her near the front lines, but knows she's on the field somewhere.

“But only once we’ve made it through the portal.”

“Agreed,” Shuri replies. Good. They’re on the same page. Once T’Challa finds out, he’d probably bring Steve over to Wakanda anyway for safeguarding. Steve likes T'Challa. He'd do as he was told. Everything’s sorted. “Be careful, Iron Man.”

“You too, Princess,” Tony says. The portal’s big enough for them to walk through now, and Tony can’t see it very clearly, but the view inside looks misty—greyish shapes of large mountains towering over the desolate land. He feels the cold gust of wind cutting through the Wakandan heat. The Guardians are the first to go through, Wanda opts to stay in case anything happens in Wakanda, which leaves Tony to take the leap next.

He’s gone through plenty of portals now since being in a relationship with Strange, but it never stops feeling weird. After the incident in New York, portals to _space_ can particularly rattle him a little. He gets to the other side and stumbles onto the cold, snowy grounds of Vormir. It’s freezing, and he calls on the Bleeding Edge armor to come on and pump up the heating a little bit. He extends an arm out to Strange, still working hard on that meditation to keep the portal open, and pulls him in.

“It’s okay, honey, I’ve got you,” Tony says as he yanks the man in, and the portal zaps to a close. Strange opens his eyes, gasping for breath on the ground as Tony leans in. His helmet comes off so he can look him in the eyes, gorgeous blue, as Strange wets his lips and tries to get back on his feet.

“You did it,” Tony smiles. “You zapped us to another planet. Easy, right?”

“Thank you for your incredibly convenient abilities, wizard man,” Drax says. Quill and Nebula are pointing at a far-off mountain somewhere and discussing the best path to take up there. Mantis is feeling the ground all around her, as if it's alive, trying to get a read on it.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Strange says, still struggling to breathe. “We still need to get the stone.”

Tony has an arm around the small of his back and feels him still swaying backward a little bit; the portal must’ve taken a lot out of him. He looks like he’s trying to conjure up a spell with his hands, trembling even more than usual, but the magic’s just turning into futile sparks, and Strange’s face grows more and more hopelessly frustrated by the second. 

“What is it, what do you need?” Tony asks.

“Homeostasis… need to stabilize my body, and ah, adjust to this,” Strange collapses again and Tony catches him in his arms.

“Okay,  _Doc_ , time for me to take care of you now.” He picks him up in his arms, bridal style, as Strange tries to wriggle out of it.

“Tony, don’t—”

He tuts him quiet, a cold metal finger on his lips. “Patients don’t complain when they’re being saved.”

“I don’t need—I can do this—” He tries the spells again with his shivering hands, and it would be sad if he weren't softly melting in Tony's arms, gentle and helpless. It would've been sweet, under different circumstances.

Tony looks down on him with doting eyes, tries to quirk up a small smile even though the very concept of being on a foreign planet is already short-circuiting half of his brain into a panic, but he has to stay calm for Strange, it’s what he’s done for him all this time.

“Save your energy. We’re going to need if we’re ever going to get off this planet, okay? If you’ve forgotten, we have a wedding to plan, and I am vetoing anything to do with an off-planet ceremony.”

Strange finally smiles, relaxing into Tony’s arms as Tony carries him over to Quill. He looks alarmed when he finally notices the state the sorcerer’s in. Mantis is trying to touch his forehead, but Nebula gently moves her arm away.

“He okay?” Quill asks.

“Yeah, fine, What’s the game plan?”

Quill turns back around and points to the mountain. “Thanos is taking Gamora there—probably already there, actually. I’ve got rockets in my boots but they can’t support the weight of more than one person with me, so.”

Tony flashes a grin. “I can get you all there faster than you can lift your feet off the ground, cowboy. Hope no one suffers from sweaty palms?”

“My palms have been known to be drier than planets with zero moisture— ” Drax begins, and Quill and Nebula are already groaning, “sometimes, on the best days, I can even start a fire by vigorously rubbing meteor debris between them.”

Tony notices Strange’s brows furrowing, even as his eyes are still closed. 

“It’s true!” Mantis says gleefully. “One time, Drax made a flame so big the back of the ship nearly caught fire!” 

Quill’s head snaps at them. “Is _that_ why you two went on a week-long field trip to collect rocks that one time? You told me you were growing an interest in alien geology!”

 

-

 

Once they reach the peak of the mountain, they’re greeted by the oddest sight. Really. Tony’s seen a lot of weird in his days of being a superhero: fighting aliens, Norse gods, sentient robots, and even the fact that a genocidal maniac like Thanos exists in the universe couldn’t have prepared him to see the fucking _Red Skull_ on top of the mountain, guiding them to the Soul stone. He immediately thinks of Steve, thinks _thank god_ he isn’t the one here right now, because Tony’s only ever read the case files and heard about the stories from his dad to know that this man was a monster before any other they would face in his lifetime. He held the same Tesseract Loki did, except seventy years earlier; it was the same Tesseract that led Steve nose-diving straight into the frozen ocean. That cursed _thing_ was the last thing on his mind before he went under.

Suddenly, Tony isn’t sure about doing this. Not this, specifically, the rescue mission for Gamora, but rather using the stones, building another Infinity gauntlet. They have two of the stones already and maybe they’ll get a third, and maybe then they can defeat Thanos, but he remembers the way these stones can corrupts people, the way it’s torn apart civilizations and lives and minds, splitting them open like Loki first did when he had them under his influence, and that was just the power of  _one_ of them. Jesus, Tony can’t imagine what wielding six would do to a person. They’d have to be a certain kind of crazy to even try.

Strange is back on his feet again, walking next to Tony. He still doesn’t have enough energy to use his preferred mode of transport: floating, but he’s seemed to have stabilized. Quill gave him a small dosage of an immuno-shot that’s meant to help you adjust to new environments. Strange complained about it being potentially incompatible with his body at first, but Quill reminds them that he’s half human too, and if it works on him, it should work on them. It’s enough for Strange to succumb in the end.

“You are not the only ones seeking the stones today,” the Red Skull tells them as they reach closer to the peak, and as the fog starts parting Tony sees him. It’s Thanos. Standing on the edge with a green woman next to him, beautiful and deadly at the same time, and he notices the way her eyes widen when she sees Quill.

“Peter!” she calls out as she goes running up to him. Thanos’ face flinches into a bitter scowl, but he doesn’t stop it. Instead, he watches them, watches the way they fall into the other’s desperate embrace and kiss, and then his eyes shift towards Tony and Strange.

“Stark,” the Titan says. “You’re early.”

“You know me,” Tony’s faceplate dissolves, and watches as Thanos examines him, carefully. Before he can answer, Drax is already wielding his swords, and Quill has a gun pointed at him, while Nebula is charging ahead. She’s ready to jump onto him until Gamora grabs onto her and holds her back, “Nebula, don’t!”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Thanos says, holding up his fist and the gauntlet. “Remember what happened last time.”

Everyone just stands still, looking at each other as if something’s about to happen, but they’re all too scared to find out what the next move is. Strange is just looking intensely at Thanos, and then at Gamora, and at Tony, like he _knows_ something—no, like he knows half of what the next play is going to be and he’s trying to figure out the other half. Tony detests it, the look on someone’s face when they’re not bringing him into the conversation but they’ve already decided that they’re going to be the one to make the tough call _for_ him, as if he can’t handle it. He’d thought Strange would be past this, unlike everyone else, but evidently not.

“You all seek the Soul stone,” the Red Skull starts saying. “I did say that it comes at a price. To ensure that the wielder of the stone understands the power it holds, you must lose that of which you love.” He floats over to the end of the ledge as they all walk closer towards it, looking at the depths beneath. Oh, _fuck no._

Gamora and Quill look at each other, eyes devastated when the realization dawns on them. Tony can only hear the soft whimper of a _no, not again_ coming from Quill, and then, _do me instead, please._ Strange takes his hand, and Tony twitches as the armor comes off around his fingers, feeling the warm clasp of Strange’s hand around his. It happens so fast—Strange tries to say something but Tony immediately shuts him down. He pulls away, in denial, because _no,_ they’re not having this conversation and looks back at Thanos, who actually seems distracted in a way he’s never seen him in any of the visions from their final battle.

He sees it on his face, the tears (fucking _tears_?) in his eyes as he gazes sadly at Gamora, and Tony takes the opportunity to fire a canon straight at him. Nebula comes up to stab him in the neck as well, as he gets thrown off balance. Tony follows up and flies right up to him to deliver a solid punch in the face with the battering ram in his armor. He only slightly stumbles off balance but swats Tony away with the gauntlet as soon as he gets back up. He points it at Nebula and uses the Reality stone until she melts into the ground, a pool of sizzling, acidic blue.

Gamora cries out and charges toward him, swords ready, and Quill chases after her. Drax is trying to attack his legs, and Mantis gets a grip on his shoulders and does something that makes her antennas light up. Something’s happening to Thanos. Suddenly, he starts breaking down and sobbing, even more, like he’s being flooded with grief. He falls to his knees, but manages to shake Mantis off his back and kicks Drax away from him, and that grief soon morphs into red-hot rage. Tony knows blinding anger when he sees it. His eyes are dead set on Gamora now as he picks her up, and he uses the Power stone on Quill as the purple energy ripples blast through them and they end up falling flat on the floor.

“He’s going to get the stone,” Strange says, quickly. Neither of them even have a moment to talk about what comes next.

“Please tell me this isn’t the first time we say _I love you_ ,” Tony can’t even keep his composure as he says that, attempted laughter breaking into a strained cry.

“We don’t have to say it,” Strange says, and Tony hears Thanos’ voice behind him, _I’m sorry, little one_ , as Gamora cries out in agony. He's slowly swinging her over the ledge now. 

 _But I want to say it_ , Tony thinks.  _Just not like this._

Tony can see the tears welling up in Strange’s face—eyes puffy, cheeks flushed, skin dripping with sweat even though it’s below freezing out here, as he frantically pushes his hair back with both hands, as if he’s thinking, stalling for a decision that can’t wait any longer. His clothes are a mess, sleeved rolled up and fabric just bunched up together in all the wrong places. He's never seen Strange like this before.

A thought dawns on Tony, then. He can never know a hundred percent whether or not Strange is in love with him. Sure, the signs could be obvious, but another man’s head isn’t exactly an open book. But he knows how _he_ feels about Strange, and there is zero doubt about that. It's the only way for them to guarantee getting the stone, but this seemed like a ridiculously impossible price to pay.

And maybe it’s because the oxygen is thinning up in here, maybe the air is drawing them deeper in a haze, and Tony’s starting to feel a little lightheaded, and Strange is a mess in front of him, and the Red Skull is ghosting over them like he's about to envelop them in his shadow. Maybe it’s because he sees Gamora being tossed over the cliff and he doesn’t know what else to do and the _universe_ is counting on him, but oh god, what about the wedding? They can’t have a wedding if one of them were dead. If they even had a minute to spare, Tony would think of a way to cheat out of the situation: a backdoor, a mistake in the fine print, anything that would stop him from doing what he’s about to do next.

He takes Strange by the wrists and propels them upwards and over the cliff, ready to splutter out apologies and final declarations of love. For a split second, he thinks about dropping the other man, but he knows he can't do it. He won't do it, not in this life or the next. He babbles on, "One of us has to go save her, and you're in no state to fly. I'd suggest the cloak but I think my jets can propel me faster down, but that means neither of us gets the stone, not much of a sacrifice, is it—"

His grip on Strange suddenly loosens, as Strange phases through him and whispers, “I’m sorry, Tony.”

Tony’s armor shuts down, fizzles out with sparks of orange magic short-circuiting everything. Strange’s duplicate self floats back to his body, still on the cliff, standing still, before merging back with it. _Oh._ Tony doesn’t know how to feel about this. On one hand, Strange is certain that he’s in love with Tony now, certain enough to toss him over a cliff, nonetheless, and a part of Tony still feels (or at least hopes) that this is all part of a bigger plan in the grand scheme of things, an outcome in which they both live. But Strange has a habit of keeping the future to himself, even if said future will involve Tony Stark.

So Tony does what comes instinctively to him anyway: saving people. He streamlines himself to pick up speed on the freefall, grabbing Gamora in his arms, her hair blowing everywhere on his face. He feels her uncontrollable sobs in his arms, the twitching all over her body as she tries to keep breathing. He shields her with the armor, and figures that if they’re both going down, one of them might as well make it out alive. He flips them around so that he has his back towards the ground, ready to cushion her in the event of the fall. He sees the ground getting closer and closer, and closes his eyes and braces the impact as they reach the bottom. 

But the impact never comes. There’s a wooshing sound and Tony stumbles backwards, softly, into what feels like a bed. He looks around. Gamora isn’t in his arms anymore, he isn’t falling to his death, and he is definitely not on another planet. It’s his room in Wakanda, the same one he's been staying in a day earlier. He hears alarms blaring and opens the door, sees rows of the Dora Milaje walking past, something in the announcements talking about a spacecraft turning up at the border. He checks the date and time.

He realizes that time has moved backwards. He's right back at the beginning of their day, right before the Guardians' ship landed, right before Strange and Shuri had completed the gauntlet and before Tony had told them to send it off to Steve. Someone else shows up in front of him now, filling up the entire frame of his door. 

“Tony,” Strange exhales. He looks like he's had a  _bad_ day, possibly even worse than him. He's panting, eyes red and bags dark, and face ghost white, like he's been dead himself. He's balling up his hands into fists but Tony can very clearly still see them trembling.

“What did you do,” Tony might not be able to explain it, might not know the _how_ and the _why_ when it happens but boy, does he know someone when someone’s fucking around with magic.

His patience is usually thin when it comes to this kind of thing, but it’s _Stephen,_ and he really is trying his best to keep it together for him, but he can't help but feel hurt. Like he's been played with. Some type of alternate-future-time-bending  _experiment_ which he never agreed to do, was never given any warning or anything and damn it, it didn't just feel real, this time it _was_ real. Strange better have a damn good explanation for this because this wasn't just between the two of them, this was about Gamora and Quill and _shit_ , he starts feeling his knees buckling. Not again. Too much magic, too much fucking around with the simple physics of reality... 

He calls on the armor to zap him back awake with the smallest jolt of electricity. He's not passing out this time, not getting coaxed back into health by Strange, sleepy and too-smitten to claw for the truth. He's going to get some real answers, answers that make sense, and hopefully one of those answers would explain why in any universe, would either of them end up having to shove the other down a cliff in what looked like a set from The Lord of the Rings. Soul stone or not, Tony didn't know what overcame him at that moment where he brought Strange up in the air. It must've been some effect, or magic he wasn't aware of because well, did they both have a lot to work through in the case that it wasn't. Ten points for their sense of duty to the universe, zero for their supposedly solid romantic commitments.

 


	7. if this is mutual

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony's still hurt by the events from Vormir, and Strange battles for reconciliation - both with Tony and with himself. 
> 
> -
> 
> “Our time will come, I promise,” Stephen tells him, faces only ever so slightly pulled apart again. He can tell Tony’s aching for more.
> 
> “Do you always speak in prophecies, or, can we turn that feature off for tonight?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> decided to do a change of pace and slow things down a little bit and give Strange's POV in this one! I also not-so-subtly switched it to 'Stephen' in this one, just because it felt more natural that he'd refer to himself that way. 
> 
> also some nsfw bits at the end! 
> 
> wanted to say thank you again to everyone following this story and leaving kudos/comments, I really appreciate it and will reply to your comments asap! sorry this chapter took a while hoping to get things going at a regular pace again, and will return things back to explore more peter / steve / guardians / new york-vengers dynamics soon x

Tony never makes the sacrifice at Vormir. Not once does he manage to complete it, no matter how much Stephen tries to convince him to, or how early they have the discussion. The very few times he comes close to doing it, it’s a moment too late, a hesitation too long, which ruins their chances of getting the stone entirely.

They never manage to save Gamora either. Surprisingly, Quill proves himself to be more willing to make the sacrifice than any of them had thought, but Thanos is always one step ahead, and Gamora keeps dying by his hand instead of Quill’s.

Stephen keeps going through the loop, telling himself each time that this is the _last_ time he puts them through this. It was different with Dormamu; no one else suffered apart from him, so he felt like he had the rest of eternity to keep dying again and again. But this time it felt _wrong_ , putting Tony and the rest of them through this. None of them deserved any of it.

Without the Time stone physically in his hands (they’d moved it to Steve Rogers in Brooklyn), he’s just running on residual magic now, and he’s on the last of his energy reserves. He tries one more time, then, to get Tony to make the sacrifice.

He goes through the motions until they reach the moment of realization, with the Red Skull’s words lingering in the misty air: _you must lose that of which you love._ He puts a spell on Tony, subtly, when he takes hold of Tony’s hand, holding it tight. Just a flicker of magic pushes Tony to fly him up over the edge of the cliff, even if he’s not sure why he’s doing it. 

“Do it,” Stephen exhales, and Tony’s face hardens when the situation dawns on him. He looks down at the depths of the valleys, horrified at the sight.

Gamora’s taken a dive now, and the moment can’t be stretched out any longer.

It shouldn’t be possible, but Tony seems to have overcome the spell—Stephen can read it in his eyes, the _can’t do it_ , _won’t do it_ , that he’s just aching to say. Tony’s holding on tight to him, gripping him with his life and starts telling him instead, “One of us has to go save her, and you're in no state to fly. I'd suggest the cloak but I think my jets can propel me faster down, but that means neither of us gets the stone, not much of a sacrifice, is it—"

Stephen knows there’s no time for this discussion. With every fraction of a second, Gamora’s going to hit the ground, or (he hates to say it) worse—Thanos might start catching on to the loop he’s put them all in.

“I’m sorry, Tony,” Stephen says as he phases through him, words faltering like broken glass.

He makes a duplicate of himself standing on the cliff, to give Tony a sense of assurance that this was all part of a bigger plan, as if he knew what he’d been doing all along, when in all honesty, isn't true. He’d lost sight of the future for several weeks now. Everything had become blurred, uncertain—including the visions of the wedding he can’t seem to return to, or gain any further clarity regarding. He doesn’t want to tell Tony, but as he watches him fall, he realizes that he has to.

 

-

 

Stephen uses the last of the Time stone’s magic to bring them back several hours earlier, to when the alarms first set off in Wakanda from the Guardians’ arrival. He’s in the middle of fortifying the gauntlet with his spells alongside Shuri in the lab, but she’s too distracted to notice anything, tinkering with mechanics and Stephen looks at the Time stone decisively, before telling himself that it’s over. The loop is done.

He refuses to put Tony, Quill, Gamora and the rest of them through any of that again; it’s a dead end, trying to get the Soul stone. They all have too much compassion between them to ever be quick enough to make the sacrifice before Thanos does. None of them became heroes to put anyone, much less one of their own, in harm’s way, and Stephen’s glad that these are the people he’s aligned himself with.

He just about manages to teleport to Tony’s room, magic wrung dry by the time he gets there. He’s barely holding himself up.

“Tony,” Stephen says, panting as he leans into the doorframe, sweat dripping down his face. Guilt washes over him as he sees the broken look on Tony’s face. There are words in his eyes that he doesn’t want to hear.

“What did you do,” Tony grits through his teeth, and there’s a sudden hitch in his breathing. His eyes are locked on Stephen’s, and something in his heart breaks a little as he the hard expression on Tony’s face doesn’t let up. He calls on the armor to shoot a small jolt of electricity to the reactor, as if he’s about to pass out himself.

“I’m sorry—” Stephen tries to lean in to hold him, but Tony takes a step back. He’s steadying himself and clearly doesn’t want any help.

“I don’t want an apology, Stephen, I want an explanation.”

Standing firm and tall, Tony seems to have composed himself better than Stephen at this point, who’s drained himself from every last drop of magic in his bones. It shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be exhausted this easily, but the physical toll of creating that portal to Vormir, extending the spell, and the emotional toll of going through that loop and watching Tony break down every time had proven to be too much for him. 

“Tell me what you remember,” Stephen asks, as calmly as he can, even with the alarms blaring in the background and T’Challa coming in through the speakers ordering everyone to come to the front lines.

“I don’t—I don’t remember anything,” Tony says to himself, looking at his hands, disappointingly empty. “I was holding someone, something. I don’t know, Stephen, what the fuck. Why can’t I remember?” He stumbles backwards to the bed and sits down, rubbing his palms on his knees.

Stephen walks over to him and drops down to his knees, out of exhaustion and desperation. Tony’s hands instinctively reach out to hold his.

“It’s me, I did this—” Stephen splutters out, trying to find the right explanation even though his mind is slowly weakening. He mutters under his breath, “We should’ve never left Earth.”

“Should’ve? What do you mean, we haven’t gone anywhere—” 

“Don’t let them go to Vormir—”

Stephen collapses on Tony’s legs, head pounding like never before and his body slumping all over the other man like every muscle in him had turned off. It’s not a good time to get knocked out of the game, especially with so much to explain and so much to do, but Stephen’s body just can’t take it anymore. He’s in Tony’s hands now.

 

-

 

He wakes up in the med bay, Wakandan tech everywhere in sight. Shuri leans in over him and says, “Calm down. I was told to take care of you for the time being. It’s clear you’ve suffered from a lot of energy drainage.”

“What did you give me?” Stephen asks, squirming upright as Shuri gestures for him to be more careful.

“Morphine,” she says, flatly. “But I was told that this would make you feel better too. Wong came by to conjure up this drink.” She pushes a glass of purple liquid towards him. It’s the hangover potion. “He couldn’t stay, unfortunately.”

“Where’s Tony?” 

“Him and my brother are confronting our alien guests inside the palace. They wanted the gauntlet and tried to threaten our guards when my brother refused.”

Stephen nods. Would've been amusing to see that go down. “How did that go?" 

“Not very well,” Shuri’s eyes widen. “Besides, we’ve moved the gauntlet for safekeeping with the Captain now.”

Stephen gets up, forgetting to drink the potion, and decides to go look for the Guardians. He walks into the throne room in the middle of T’Challa telling them that they will not compromise when it comes to the Infinity stones.

Tony’s telling them, “We usually have a wizard to open portals and stuff to other places, but he’s out of commission right now, so we’ll have to think of another plan.”

“That plan is to be ready when Thanos comes to Earth next,” Stephen says, as everyone turns to look at him in the room. Tony still doesn’t look happy to see him. “He’s coming for us. We can’t stop him from getting the Soul stone but we can protect the remaining two.”

 

-

 

“Another fight?” Tony says, still tapping away at the screens in front of him, back turned from Stephen. They’re back in the lab after T’Challa’s ordered everyone to prepare for battle, which meant upgrading suit systems in Tony’s case. 

“Considering what we’ve all been through these past few days, weeks, I mean, sure, why don’t we go another ‘round—why _don’t_ we get back to throwing ourselves into the line of fire, because that’s not going to—”

Stephen cups his face in his hands and pulls him in for a kiss, sealing their lips together as Tony’s chest expands onto his. He’s never needed him more than he does right now, right this moment. He hasn’t exactly been the most vocal person in their relationship so far, but that’s not for a lack of caring—in fact, it’s the opposite. Stephen can’t remember the last time he cared about someone this much, and universe problems aside, it feels like he has a lot riding on this one relationship. He’s never met a man like Tony, who’s both strong and delicate and beautiful and unpredictable all at once.

There’s a short moment when they pull away and both hold their breaths momentarily, but then he feels Tony’s mouth opening slightly against his, lips asking for more as they both exhale into the kiss, deepening it even further.

“Our time will come, I promise,” Stephen tells him, faces only ever so slightly pulled apart again. He can tell Tony’s aching for more.

“Do you always speak in prophecies, or, can we turn that feature off for tonight,” Tony says, without the usual bite in his voice. He seems tired. 

Stephen doesn’t know how long they have until Thanos reaches Earth, or whether he’ll send more of his children out to fight on his behalf, but he knows he wants to spend the few moments they have left until the next battle with Tony. All this lack of focus, the turmoil in him, perhaps it has something to do with the lack of focus in their relationship.

“I thought we’d be spending more time wedding planning and less time… I don’t know,” Tony sighs, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t know what we’re doing anymore. You don’t tell me what I need to know in these futures, and I can’t—I can’t work around it, Stephen.”

“Because they’re volatile possibilities that could change at any given moment,” Stephen tries to explain. “And I don’t want you misguided.”

Tony seems to scoff a little at that last word, pulling away from him entirely. “You know you still haven’t told me what happened, with the time loop. My heart was falling out of my chest when I woke up in that bed, and it felt like it had been crushed over and over again—by _you._ And you’d think I wouldn’t want to know about any of that, but it hurts more knowing that you’re acting like nothing had happened.

Stephen opens his mouth to defend himself but can’t bring himself to say anything. Instead, he just holds Tony tight and rests his chin on his head. He plants a kiss in his soft hair and says, “Okay, I’ll explain.”

 

-

 

When Tony finds out about what happens about Vormir, Stephen had expected him to be angrier. Instead, he’s just hurt. Not even necessarily because of the decisions Stephen made, but because it painted a picture of a hopeless situation. There was no way out, no way to win, for anyone involved—it wasn’t exactly the motivating vision of the future he’d hope to see before facing Thanos.

T’Challa’s still discussing the next course of action with the Guardians regarding Thanos—considering they know more about him, and have actually fought him once, and with Nebula’s intel they prove to be much better than anticipated at strategizing on what the next move should be. Tony and Stephen take the night off, to recharge their batteries and get into the right headspace.

Stephen decides to meditate outside, in the Wakandan mountainsides. It reminds him of home: not New York, but the family farm in Nebraska where they grew up in. Being around T’Challa’s family had reminded him of that. He’d been alone for so long he’d almost forgotten what it felt like being surrounded by family. Shuri reminds him of his own sister, the one he had loved and lost. He doesn’t think about her often, because once he does he can’t stop. He’s heard Tony talk about losing his parents so often by now, Stephen feels like a coward for never being able to speak on his losses.

He regains his magic and his strength, slowly, breath by breath, with every inhale filling up his lungs, his chest expanding; the thought is interrupted, or joined, rather, by the thought of Tony, pressed up against his full chest. He imagines Tony sinking into him when he exhales, body sprawled all over him, hot and dominating. 

He liked being under Tony, despite knowing how fragile he could be sometimes. He’d been careful with him all these weeks, letting Tony make the first moves in most instances. He’d wanted him since the moment they met, but he wasn’t sure how to gauge the other man’s interest at first. When it became fairly clear that he was, well, _very_ interested, Stephen happily rolled with it. He liked flirting with Tony, liked the bright conversations, the profound discussions and the intense chemistry they had. It was all undeniably _easy_ , as far as Stephen’s relationships went. Tony was practically a miracle that had fallen into his lap one day, giving him all the love and affection he’d always wanted.

But Stephen continued to be careful around him, not even necessarily with his heart, but with the parts of him he thought he’d buried. Tony does that to a person. He shows off his scars like they’re nothing: all that pain on display, accompanied with a smile and a lethal kiss, and Stephen doesn’t know how he does it. He’s a man with a lot of baggage, but so is Tony, and maybe that’s just been the fatal mistake this entire time. Maybe it was time to fully unload, to submit himself entirely to Tony.

He comes back to their room, the rest of the meditation session be damned, to find Tony in the shower, fog building all the way up to the ceiling, as the gentle sprays of water sprinkled down on him. Stephen eyed him all over, body glistening under the running water, muscles defined in his compact frame, and his skin just ever so slightly tinted with a touch of red from the heat.

“Do you want to be alone?” Stephen asks, voice cutting through the room.

Tony’s head turns quickly. He looks surprised to see Stephen standing there, fully clothed, in the middle of the room. He bites down on his lip, as if considering the proposition for a brief second.

“Not really, no.”

Stephen nods. He takes off his tunic manually, methodically, in front of him. He wants Tony to see him doing this, wants him to know how much he wants him right now. Tony’s eyes darken from afar as Stephen shrugs off the fabric and drops it on the ground, before kicking off his boots and sliding down his trousers. He slowly walks towards Tony and steps into the shower; it’s big and spacious, and Tony adjusts the water pressure to be a little lighter. Stephen looks up and feels the mist spraying over his face and his body, still warm.

Tony gulps, the remains of the water trickling down his face as he brings his hands up to Stephen’s chest, as if placing a weak barrier between them. Stephen curls his fingers around his wrists and pushes them down slowly. His hands are pressed on Tony’s hips now and Stephen kneels down on the floor in front of him. He pushes Tony’s thighs open and he hears an audible sigh escaping his lips.

He traces his fingers over Tony’s cock, already semi-hard, and brings his lips towards it to lick the entire length of the underside all the way up to the tip.

“Stephen…” Tony sighs again, placing a hand on his head and sweeping all the way back to his neck.

“Use me,” Stephen blurts out. He’s never been that forward with Tony before, but they’ve been doing this long enough for him to know what Tony likes. He knows he’d want it, and by the way Tony’s legs shake a little he knows he wasn’t wrong. 

“Use me, Tony,” Stephen says again, firm. “I’m all yours. I’m—I love you.”

It doesn't get lost on Stephen that that's the first time he's ever said it. He wonders whether it was a little presumptuous, considering the position they're both in right now.

Tony just nods in response. He understands. “I love you too,” is all he says, and there’s a visceral _need_ for each other that they both feel right now. After all that time spent out of their bodies in astral worlds, or in time loops out of their running consciousness, separated from physical spaces, they’re left with a sense of pure desire running through their bones. Stephen wants to let it all out, feel everything: every word, every sensation. He wants unbridled emotion, nothing less.

Every touch feels electric, and Tony’s gripping Stephen’s hair in his hands tight now, cock fully in his mouth now, as he starts thrusting tentatively. Stephen rolls his eyes and pushes his face in further, impatient, as he feels Tony filling up his mouth, cock hitting the back of his throat. He moves his head, taking in his length and savoring the taste of it, which earns him a small laugh of disbelief from Tony.

“I like it when you’re down there,” Tony says, finally thrusting a little harder into Stephen’s mouth. “You look beautiful, honey. I am still a little mad at you but, you probably know that, or else you wouldn’t be on your knees right now,”

That sends a shiver down Stephen’s spine, as he feels his own cock twitch in response to Tony’s words. He isn’t wrong. He wants this as much as the guilt is weighing down on him, and maybe once they’ve gotten this out of their systems, they’d be able to move past this.

“You okay?” Tony stops all of a sudden, and Stephen realizes that he’s been in his head for too long again. Tony worries too much about him to ever fully let go. Stephen wishes he didn’t do that.

He pops his mouth off his cock and starts stroking it with his hand fast and tight, as Tony groans and tips his head back. “I wish you’d just fuck my mouth, Tony.” 

That seems to do it for him. “Fuck, Stephen, if that’s how it’s gonna be.” Stephen smiles as he wraps his mouth around Tony again, this time feeling the thrusts getting harder and harder inside his mouth.

He can barely see, with the fog in the room, the water trickling down his eyes, but he’s living for it. He doesn’t need to fucking see anything to _feel_ just how good Tony is inside his mouth. He can hear the moans of pleasure coming out of his mouth, saying his name over and over again. He wants to touch himself so badly, but he wants to keep his attention fully on Tony for the time being. Hanging in there for the next couple of minutes, it doesn’t take long for Tony to finally finish, spilling right into the back of Stephen’s throat. He swallows it all down and sucks him clean, and the two of them quickly move to the bedroom where Stephen pins him down on the bed.

Stephen doesn’t usually top Tony, having only done it twice before—for no particular reason other than the fact that he _likes_ getting fucked by Tony, and Tony seems to enjoy doing it for him. But tonight, the tables have turned and Stephen’s stretching him out by the fingers, squirting more lube inside him as he keeps adding more, pressing more until Tony’s ready to take him.

He’s a lot more aggressive than he had been the previous two times, and it seems to be getting a positive response from Tony, at least, who’s sat on top of him in reverse as Stephen trails his hands along his back, leaving magic print marks all over his skin to send smaller pulses of pleasure leading down to where he’s moving on Stephen’s cock. He pushes Tony down onto his hips harder each time as he thrusts upwards, both hands now on his thighs to push him down into place. Tony pushes his hands away at one point after finding his rhythm, and Stephen becomes completely enamored by the way he manages to roll his hips on him. It’s the hottest view he could possibly get from behind. 

When Stephen finishes inside him, Tony slams back down on him and clenches tight, capturing every last drop of pleasure. Stephen can only lie there, body pulsing, until it's all over. Tony ends up being the one who grabs a towel and cleans up for the both of them. He rolls over to Stephen on the bed and rests his head on his shoulder.

“So that was nice,” Tony says, nonchalant. 

“I would’ve hoped so,” Stephen replies, unsure of whether this was going to lead to some backhanded comment or jab.

“So I’ve been thinking,” Tony starts, and Stephen smiles at the fact that he’s just been undone by someone who’s been distracted by god knows what. He knows Tony well enough by now to know that that beautiful brain of his doesn't turn off for a second.

“I’ve been thinking about the logistics of our next play with Thanos,” Tony explains, and Stephen’s listening now. “You know how you kept us all in a time loop? Yeah, terrible execution, not too bad of a concept if the goal wasn’t to find a solution, but to keep the damage contained…” 

Stephen shakes his head. “Not following so far.” 

“Yeah, you’re too sexed up to think right now, so let me do the talking,” Tony grins and kisses him on the nose. Stephen can feel himself blushing already, but at least things are good between them now. “My point is, no matter what happens next this is going to be one messy fight, and if you could use your magic to keep it contained in that mirror world of yours—" 

“The Mirror Dimension,” Stephen replies, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, then we’d get to keep a handle on things while it all goes down. So I say, you and Wong can get this whole thing up, while Quill, T’Challa and I…” Tony lays out the entire plan and for the next couple of hours they stay up discussing the logistics of it, working it out and strategizing the way they did the first time they’d worked together with Peter. It feels natural, the way things fall back into place between them, but Stephen’s learned that the path of least resistance is often the incorrect once. He still hasn’t told Tony about the prospects of their wedding, or the future, or anything else for that matter. 

He hopes to get a chance to soon, before it’s too late. He never told Tony when the date of their wedding was in the future, but it’s in a little over a month. He doesn’t know why he can’t work up the courage to just tell him this, right here, right now, and maybe it’s that old part of him that’s creeping back—the part that’s averse to any type of stable relationship or commitment. If Tony had this information, he undoubtedly would’ve asked him already, but it’s up to Stephen now to decide the next moves from now on, starting with when and how the hell is he going to set a date to the big day among all of this chaos going on around them?  


	8. countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clock starts ticking. The wedding gets pushed ahead at full speed. They’re diving right into the end game now.

Things are calmer over the next few weeks. At first, there was this sense of dread constantly creeping up behind them, the feeling that Thanos could appear anytime, but he never does. Quill’s getting overly anxious, and with the Milano fuelled up again it takes a lot from T’Challa and the rest to convince him not to go after Thanos himself. They all settle back into the compound, and they feel like a team again, albeit with a lot of new, alien, faces among them making the difference.

Tony’s gotten used to wrangling up everyone again—and it’s less of a chore than he had expected it to be. It’s easier with Steve around, who’s a lot better at doing this sort of stuff than he is. Tony’s just glad the gauntlet is back in one piece. He’d trusted Steve to take good care of it against everyone else’s judgement: T’Challa, Strange, Quill—the list goes on. He had a run in with the government initially, who, when they found out that Tony had built the gauntlet, had tried to get their hands on it themselves, but when has Steve ever let the government get in his way?

Strange doesn’t stay with them at the compound, and it almost feels like Tony’s being forced to keep his personal and professional life separate, despite Strange technically being in the same line of profession as the rest of them. It’s fine, though. The distance. Tony isn’t sure whether Strange has been pulling away lately or whether he has been. Maybe it’s a bit of both. Nothing’s particularly wrong between them—there have been no arguments, or fights, since Vormir—but Tony has to admit that they had never really moved past the incident.

At least it doesn’t feel like they have, not in his heart. It’s been stagnant, like both of them are afraid to push anything in any direction nowadays, in fear of pushing too far. Tony tried to push for the wedding initially, but Strange has been putting up a wall between them regarding that. He still kisses him like he wants him, still holds him in bed like it’s the only haven on Earth, but sometimes there’s a hollowness to it. Their conversations end a beat too soon, every touch gets pulled back a second too quickly, and neither of them have said _I love you_ since that day in the shower. It dawns on Tony now that it may have been nothing but an burst of hot sex and passion from Strange, just trying to please him, or worse, distract him after being lied to about Vormir. Maybe he’s overthinking all this, because after all, he hasn’t been able to bring himself to say it again, either.

Tony’s also become a little more averse to magic now. He notices that Strange can tell, considering by the fact that he practices his spells less around him and doesn’t talk about any of the future outcomes anymore. Tony usually hates being coddled, shielded from the hard truth, but this time he doesn’t feel like digging further. Maybe the future’s changed. Maybe there is no hope for the both of them—or the world—after all. Tony doesn’t want to believe that, at all. He can’t live his days believing that the future is hopeless.

He tries to get ahold of Strange one night after a long day at the compound, but there’s no answer. He hasn’t seen him in days now, even Wong has been unreachable, and Tony’s brimming with worry. He ends up going to the gym. The days have been slow, and Tony’s mostly itching to get a sweat going and exhaust his body to the point of flushing his mind clean.

It’s midnight, so he’s surprised to see the gym as full as it is. Sharon and Nat are sparring, Drax is hitting some weights while Sam and Steve are both going against Nebula. With one swing of her baton she sends both Sam and Steve toppling over backwards onto each other. Tony winces and swerves past that death sentence. He does some stretches in the corner before going on the treadmill. He hates cardio, but it’s mind-numbingly painful enough for him to be able to ignore everything around him.

He gets a sweat going after ten, twenty, thirty minutes—AC/DC on blast in his earpieces, and the room is slowly clearing up. Nat, Sharon and Sam start packing up their things and leaving. Drax has disappeared for who knows how long. Steve’s still going a couple of rounds with Nebula, who looks like she’s tired, but wants to finish teaching him some new moves.

Steve doesn’t invite him over to join them. _Thank god for that_ , Tony thinks. They manage to finish their sparring session half an hour later, after lots of slamming each other into the ground, jabs to the stomach, breaking of various training weapons (they’ve been snapping at a faster rate now that Steve’s moved back in) and loud, loud groans from both parties. Steve and Nebula train in the same, deathly-silent focused way, exchanging words only when necessary, to point out something, adjust or repeat a move. It was nothing like the sparring sessions Tony used to have with Steve, which mostly consisted of, okay, flirting—and Tony distracting Steve so much he was forced to go easy on him, or Tony being far too distracted to notice when Steve ended up slamming his entire weight on top of him. Never again.

On his way out, his legs are basically jelly, and he wobbles over to pass Steve and Nebula in the kitchen talking over a cup of coffee. Or tea. It doesn’t smell like coffee, anyway. He’s pouring her a glass and talking to her like, like a friend, actually—like Steve Rogers. Tony hobbles over to them and sits down.

“What’s this, nightcap?” Tony asks, pointing for a cup.

Steve gives him an easy smile. He pours him a glass of the brewing liquid. He definitely did not buy this tea. “Just a little something to help Nebula sleep.”

“It’s really good,” she says, sipping on it slowly.

Tony takes a sip of it. Lavender. Camomile. Mint? Some other plants? He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s nice.

“You don’t like staying up late,” Tony says flatly into his drink, and he feels like he’s about to doze off while Steve’s looking as bright as day. How the tables have turned. Steve smiles to himself, like there’s a joke in there somewhere. Tony’s too tired to keep prodding.

“Where’s Strange?” Steve asks, bluntly, after a few beats of silence. It’s not harsh or anything, but it takes Tony by surprise. Steve seems to pick up on that and tries to backtrack. “It’s just—we haven’t seen him in a while and it would be nice to, you know, get to know him a little better. For the team’s sake.”

Tony looks up at him, trying to detect any signs of sarcasm on his face. He can’t believe it. Steve is actually trying to cozy up to his new boyfriend. Fiancé. God, that still feels weird to say, but so, so good.

“He’s been a little busy lately with his full time job. Unlike the rest of you, he’s not on my payroll.”

Steve nods. “Fair enough. Well, I’m going to head to bed. Not that much of a night owl, it seems. You should get some sleep, too, Tony.”

The last part seemed to slip out out of habit, but Tony lets it go. Nebula grabs the entire fruit bowl from the countertop and brings it with her to her room.

Tony drags his legs back to his room but he can’t seem to get to sleep, no matter how long he stares at the ceiling for. He just keeps thinking about Strange, about that cursed day at Vormir. He doesn’t remember what happened, but he remembers how it felt. It was like loss and betrayal on repeat, and the bitter taste is still stuck in the back of his throat. It makes him want to gag sometimes. He wants to shake it off, wants to replace it with the euphoria he felt the first time he’d met Strange, but neither of them are moving in the right direction and Tony feels like he has to do something this time. Time for a course correction.

He gets his suit on and flies out to the Sanctum, floating up in front of that huge round window on the top of the building.

“I know you’re in there,” Tony says. He doesn’t, actually. “Let me in, Doc.”

He sighs. This is stupid. For all he knows Strange’s physical body could be lying there, and his astral self could be flying off to some eleventh dimension he’s never heard of. He could be dead, both him and Wong. That wouldn’t be ideal. He hates dating a wizard some days.

“I miss you, Stephen,” Tony sighs. “I really want to talk to you.”

Suddenly he’s inside the Sanctum—stripped from his Iron Man suit, standing right in front of Stephen on the other side of the window, on top of the stairways. Huh. He didn’t actually think that would work.

“We have a lot to talk about,” Tony says, diving straight into it.

Stephen looks tired, sleepless, bags under his eyes and hair a downright mess. How long has he been like this? Tony wants to kick himself for not coming over earlier. He’d thought he was giving him space.

“You okay?” Tony asks, voice softening. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“Been training my endurance. Fortifying my spells. I was in the middle of a four day meditation until you arrived,” Strange replies.

“And you haven’t had anything to eat?” Tony hears his voice squeaking at the end.

Strange just shrugs. “Thought I could push it. Although I can’t say I’m not glad you interrupted me.”

Before Tony can open his mouth to complain, Strange grabs him by the hands.

“I wanted to show you something. I’ve also been thinking about this.”

The entire room transforms like something out of a fairytale—white carpets rolling down the stairs, flowers hanging from the ceilings, rose petals scattered around them and when Tony looks at his hand, a gorgeous golden ring with an emerald stone in the centre.

His heart starts fluttering a little. Or a lot, actually.

“Tony, I want this now.”

“O-okay,” Tony laughs, knees buckling a little. “Pump the brakes there, Doc. I thought—I thought this wasn’t happening anymore. That—this future, this whole thing.”

Stephen’s head drops a little. “I stopped using the Time stone after Vormir. I decided it was best not to tempt fate, or time. So no, I don’t know what the future holds for us, but I do know that I want you in it. I want us in it.”

Tony’s heart is racing at full speed now, and Strange kneels down.

“Anthony Edward Stark,” Strange starts, and a rose appears in his hand. “Since you’re already wearing the ring. Will you marry me—”

“Stephen, I think we’ve already established this—” Tony says, breathless, trying to straighten himself up because his brain isn’t comprehending anything right now.

“—tomorrow?” Stephen says, eyes glistening up at Tony, biting back a smile. “I wish you would’ve let me finish.”

Tony laughs, and so does Stephen, and he has a hand on the side of his head, stroking gently with his thumb. They both end up doubling over with laughter at the whole mess of the situation.

“We’re really bad at this,” Tony says.

“Terrible,” Stephen agrees. “But is it a yes?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. God, Stephen, I’d marry you anytime, anywhere.”

Stephen smiles, a full on blush creeping up his neck and his cheek.

But the realization finally dawns on Tony, momentarily interrupting the romance in the air. “If we get married tomorrow, we’re one step closer to facing Thanos.”

Strange nods solemnly. “Yes, there is a very high possibility of that approaching soon, if that’s the future we’re heading to.”

“But we do want to head in that direction if we’re going to win.”

“Yes.”

“I’m with you,” Tony says. “I’m with you, Stephen. Today, tomorrow, the next day—at the end of the world, I want to be with _you_. God, these past few weeks have been—”

Stephen interrupts him. “—utterly unnecessary, and it’s my fault for thinking too much—”

“—I hate being apart from you, ever since we met—”

“—I should’ve done this earlier, _said_ this earlier. Tony, forgive me—”

“—all I wanted to do was let go of myself to you because I—“

“—for not opening up earlier, because I really, truly do—“

“—love you with every last breath.” They both end up saying simultaneously. Tony blinks.

“Stephen Strange, get off your knees,” Tony says, and he climbs up to him and kisses him, hard.

Not long after, they start tugging each other’s clothes off. Strange turns around and lets Tony touch him, pushing into him with wet fingers, quick and rough. Tony’s also unbearably hard, and it doesn’t take much longer for Strange to be able to take Tony’s length inside him. Strange is one of the most self-controlled, patient, men Tony has ever met in his entire life, but when it comes to sex, that all goes out the window. Tony loves the way he loves _him_ , can’t hold himself together around _him_ , turns needy and desperate and gorgeous all at once for _him_. 

“You’re mine,” Tony pants, fingers gripped tightly around Strange’s hips as he slams back into him. “Can’t believe I’m gonna be yours tomorrow.”

That seems to do something to Strange, as he lets out a groan. Tony grabs his cock and starts stroking, slow and controlled. Strange writhes underneath him, needy and desperate, but he doesn’t let him have it, not yet, not now.

“T-Tony,” Strange whimpers, fingers curling up into fists against the window in front of him. He’s put up a spell so no one can see them from outside, but the thought of fucking Strange in front of the whole city is sending Tony to places, too. He can see his breath fogging up the window, blurring the city lights in front of them.

“I want you,” Strange whimpers, pushing himself back onto Tony. _Fuck_ , that’s good. He grips onto him tighter.

“You have me, darling,” Tony replies. They keep going until they finish into each other and until they have nothing left to give. It’s blissfully satisfying, the feeling of emptying yourself for the pleasure of someone else. Tony wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

-

 

They’re lying in bed in the Sanctum, letting the breeze in from the windows to cool down their bodies. Tony still feels the sweat of his skin, heat radiating against Strange’s body.

“Do you want the announcement in the papers?” Strange asks, stroking Tony’s head rested on his shoulder. His beard brushes against Tony’s temple.

Tony laughs. “Might be a bit late for that. It’s—it’s nearly four in the morning, honey. They’re shipping out the papers as we speak.”

Strange hums in agreement. “I suppose this is a last minute arrangement. You don’t happen to be an expert wedding planner, do you?”

Tony barks a sharp laugh. “Nope. That’s always been more of Pepper’s thing. You know she’s planned three weddings for me,” Tony says. “None of them have gone through.”

”Hmm. It seems this doesn’t bode well for me.”

“Oh, I am definitely marrying you. But on the subject of the ceremony, don’t get your hopes up. We might end up straying a _little_  from what you initially had in mind.”

“As long as I have you, I can’t have strayed too far,” Strange says, kissing Tony’s forehead. Tony wiggles up to go in for another kiss, and he’s right, all he wants is to be here with him, forever and always.

 

-

 

The next morning marks the start of a whirlwind of a day, with Tony agreeing to send out the invites while Strange gets started on ordering the decor. Strange always had better taste than him when it comes to interior design, even Pepper agrees. It’s probably a good thing they never had time to announce it in the papers; Tony is actually enjoying this whole privacy thing that people usually go on about. Surprisingly, the tabloids haven’t even picked up on their relationship yet—it’s not like they’ve been hiding, but Tony doesn’t think he would’ve been able to handle the stress of media scrutiny on top of everything else that had happened in their relationship so far.

Tony heads over to the compound to personally deliver the invitations to everyone there. It’s nine when Tony arrives at the compound but everyone’s still having breakfast and lounging around. Must be another slow day. He drops the stack of envelopes on the table.

“One each, don’t be greedy,” Tony tells them, as they all pick up the cards in their hands.

 

_Tony Stark & Stephen Strange._

_2100\. Tonight. Sanctum Sanctorium._

 

He gets the most bone-crushing hug from Drax, who is yelling out “I love matrimonial unions!” and pumping his fists in the air. Mantis also hugs him, albeit gentler, and makes him feel extremely warm and fuzzy inside. Nebula’s gone to explore the city with Quill in the morning but they leave two invites on the table for them. Tony also sends holographic invites to Bruce and all the other Avengers in Wakanda. 

Rhodey’s already rattling on about his best man’s speech, cursing Tony that he wasn’t given formal notice. He does all this with his arms wrapped around Tony’s shoulders, half-shaking him and half-suffocating him in a hug. Nat gives him a hug too, which Tony would usually be suspicious of, which ends up being surprisingly non-threatening.

Steve isn’t in the building, which would annoy him most days, to have to go out of his way and find him, but he feels too euphoric right now to complain about being slightly inconvenienced. They’ve been good lately, and it won’t hurt to give him a visit to deliver the news.

Turns out, Steve’s been hanging out with his fellow New Yorkers recently. Tony really had no idea, because, why would he? Whatever residual feelings he may have had before—that’s all long gone ever since falling headfirst into his weird, complicated, incredible journey with Strange. Steve hasn’t called, or texted him either since they last spoke, so it seems that he’s managed to let go as well. And that’s good. They’re just teammates again now, which is all he needs them to be, really.

He finds Steve in a gym near Hell’s Kitchen, sparring with some girl with jet black hair in a boxing ring. Tony’s first thought of _who the hell_ gets interrupted when both of their heads turn towards him. He has both of his arms locked around her neck from behind, but when they catch a glimpse of Tony she pulls them apart easily, breaking free of his grip almost immediately. Steve winces a little as he massages his joints.

“Tony?” Steve asks, walking over to the edge of the ring. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d deliver you this,” Tony hands him over the invitation.

Steve squints at it, sweat dripping down onto the card. His expression is unreadable. Surprised, a little confused maybe. Mostly surprised. Tony looks to the side as he gives him a moment.

Tony can’t take the silence. “Sorry ‘bout the late notice, it kind of just. Happened.” The woman is staring at him from behind Steve as he gives her a little wave. “Hi. Tony Stark.”

“Jessica Jones,” she says, nodding, not a hint of a smile. She tries to look over Steve’s shoulder but he’s too far in front of him. “You okay?” she asks Steve.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Steve replies absentmindedly, still looking down at the card. He takes a deep breath and finally says, “I had plans with Jess for tonight, but this is a big deal, Tony.”

A pause. “When I asked if it was serious I had no idea—wow.”

Tony feels himself get a little defensive. “You don’t have to come, I just thought it would be nice—”

Steve cuts him off, much to his relief. “Tony, I wouldn’t miss your wedding for the world.”

He finally looks up at him, a small smile quirking up from the side of his lips.

There’s a beat of silence for a bit until Tony finally claps his hands together, “Right. Well, that’s. Nice. Thank you.”

“Actually, you can come along too. Plus one. Jessica? Jess? JJ?”

Jessica’s eyes are squinting in the back as she gives Steve a look, as if asking for confirmation, or something.

“You can make friends,” Steve says, giving her a nudge of encouragement. She rolls her eyes.

“Will there be an open bar at the reception?” she asks.

“Expect nothing less,” Tony says.

“Okay, I’ll come.”

Tony’s not sure if he likes her or if he’s terrified of her. Maybe both. This seems to be a pattern with all the women in his life. As Tony walks out he hears the two of them muttering in the background. He sees Jessica put an arm around Steve’s back from the corner of his eye.

He goes to Pepper next, who he manages to catch before her lunch meeting. She had just been dropped off at the restaurant when Tony blocked her off at the entrance and showed off his new ring.

He gets smothered with lipstick kisses everywhere on his face, but when the realization dawns on her that the event is in less than nine hours, she starts shoving him back in a car to get it all sorted.

There’s just one more place he needs to get to. He tells Happy to drive by to Peter’s place, and gets caught off guard when the door opens and Peter practically throws himself onto him. 

“Mr. Stark, you’re getting married oh my god I can’t believe you’re getting married to Dr. Strange this is the best news like ever!” Tony forgets how strong the kid is sometimes. Especially when they’re off the field, in times like this, for instance. He’s pretty certain he feels his ribs collapsing.

“Congratulations,” Peter says, head buried deep in his chest.

“Kid, if you don’t let go in two seconds Strange will end up at the altar alone,” Tony wheezes, and Peter promptly lets go, as May comes in. She’s carrying multiple hangers with dresses on them in both hands.

“Tony, I swear, I had planned to send these to the dry-cleaners at the end of the week. I don’t have anything ready for tonight!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you into something nice. How’d you know about the wedding?” 

“Stephen came by.” She’s still looking at the dresses until she gives up she puts them all down to the table. She moves closer to cup Tony’s cheek. “Congratulations, by the way. He’s a real sweetheart. Charming man.”

“Isn’t he?” Tony grins and leans in for a kiss on the cheek.

“He told me I could be your ring-bearer!” Peter says, bouncing up on his toes.

“He said _what_?!”

 

-

 

Nine hours. Nine hours is all they have left to the ceremony, to tie the knot. Stephen wasn’t lying when he told Tony that he had forfeited the use of the Time stone. Something had happened to the future—it was being split apart in too many directions and the probability of each outcome occurring was becoming more and more unstable.

The last few times he had tried to peer into the future, the visions stopped at the wedding. It wasn’t the end—there was something beyond—but he couldn’t seem to access it properly. Something was blocking him. The only way to find out, he thought, was to go full speed ahead. Tony’s on board now. He knows about the risks their facing and what’s coming. Most importantly, Tony’s happy with the decision. He wants this just as much as he does, which is all Stephen needs to go through with it.

As he’s picking the flowers from the gardens of Kamar Taj, Wong brings two full baskets of white magnolias, sweet-scented and divinely fragrant.

“We should drape these around the handrails,” Wong says. “Get some vines going. It’ll look beautiful.”

“Perfect,” Stephen agrees, rounding up the last of the lilies and the hydrangea. He sits down in the fields with his basket and looks at the mountains, the same one him, Tony and Wanda had ventured into on the astral plane last time.

It’s much more beautiful when they’re not suffocating among apocalyptic visions. Wong takes a seat next to him and pats him on the knee.

“You ready for this?”

“For Thanos?” Stephen lets out a chuckle. “No.” He’d surrendered himself to fate this time, and despite not being around them as much he’d slowly grown to trust and even _believe_ in the Avengers. The Guardians, too, and the Wakandans, there’s something powerful about putting your trust in other people—something that Tony had taught him over the months, maybe not directly but, he’s noticed the small things. 

No matter what had happened between them in the past, Tony still has faith in them. And that’s something that all of them will need if they’re going to face Thanos and win.

“And Tony?” Wong asks.

“Oh, absolutely.” 

 


	9. [[wedding fanmix: not a chapter]]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fic playlist, aka the ironstrange wedding fanmix

 

 

 

***

[darling, let me be your man so I can love you for the rest of my life](https://open.spotify.com/user/8gike82chuq88o7p1wxopc0tq/playlist/0OLB4j02VEPD2ecAIBJ2xD?si=QuG33G7lQH6ihMbXS0Bu_w)

_**You are cordially invited to celebrate the wedding of** _

_**Tony Stark & Stephen Strange.** _

_**Tonight. Sanctum Sanctorium.** _

***

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the slight delay in updating - it's been a busy/hectic week for me (in a good way!) but I'm planning to get the next chapter up by this weekend, in the meantime I've been wanting to share with you guys the ironstrange playlist I've had since I first started writing this fic! I listen to this on loop while writing, in the morning, at night, while traveling, during parties, all the time basically. will add more as time goes along, hope you enjoy it, though!
> 
> as always I'm working my way through the comments <3 ilu all and I love these super dorks in love


	10. in a sentimental mood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Strange have a perfectly romantic wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI. HI. I'M ALIVE AND THIS STORY IS ALIVE

“You know how I’m usually a pioneer for bad ideas,” Tony says, adjusting his cufflinks on both sides. The ceremony’s about to start in just under an hour, and he might be having cold feet, albeit for very unusual reasons.

Rhodey’s eyes widen. “You’re not backing out are you?”

“God no—no. I was just thinking, Stephen and I haven’t really gone through most of the...” he searches for the word on his tongue, “ _milestones_ one usually goes through in a relationship.”

“As in?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Fights over nothing, grating on each other over annoying habits, emotionally compromising the other by accident. Or not by accident, sometimes. The kind of stuff that you go through before deciding whether you can put up with someone for the rest of your life.”

“So you’re worried... that you might not have an unhealthy relationship?” Rhodey looks at him like he isn’t making any sense, which happens often. He hands Tony a glass of water as his face whitens in the reflection in front of him.

“Thank you.” Tony drinks the glass empty and sets it aside. He sits himself up on the table across from where Rhodey is. They’re cooped up in one of the Sanctum’s ‘storage rooms’ since Strange and Wong are occupying one of the bigger ones for their prep. He tries not to knock anything over, and cringes when he hears the wooden table creaking beneath him.

“It all just seems too perfect. I mean, when do I ever get what I want in these situations?” Tony wiggles his legs hanging over the table, considering changing shoes.

“Shit, these Salvatores are a little tight. Maybe I can text Happy to run over and bring me another pair.”

“Well, if you’re looking for red flags, didn’t you mention that he used you as a sacrificial lamb in some kind of Soul ritual with Thanos?” Rhodey shrugged, as if it was just another one for the list.

“That was different,” Tony says, crossing his arms.

He sucks his cheeks in at the thought of what happened at Vormir. Even he isn’t sure he completely understands the events that had occurred there. But Strange had clearly never planned for it to go that far, and pulled the plug once things went south. It was an honest mistake, one Tony was willing to forgive. They never told the Guardians either about what really happened. Considering how many of Strange’s visions of the future hinged on Quill’s sanity, they had both agreed to keep this to themselves for now.

“Uh-uh. Because magic doesn’t count,” Rhodey says, eyeing him skeptically.

Tony jumps off the table and walks over to the pile of cupcakes stacked for the reception. He grabs a chocolate frosted one and stuffs it into his mouth. Rhodey watches him eat the thing whole, which Tony actually really appreciates, because Rhodey’s a busy man, but he always seems to have time for Tony when he’s doing things like this.

“I just want to get the ugly stuff out of the way so I know what to expect for the rest of it, you know,” Tony says, kicking off his shoes. He pulls out his phone and texts Happy to bring a new pair, asap.

“Strange seems like he’s got his head on straight most of the time.”

“There must be something. It’s—“ Tony checks his watch. “—forty-five minutes until the ceremony. I’ve never been this close to actually walking down the aisle, Rhodes.”

 

-

 

“Do you think Tony would like classic wedding bells, you know, the orchestral music type? Or should I jazz it up a little?” Stephen asks Wong, shuffling through his mental music library.

“More Elton John?” Wong raises an eyebrow. Stephen curses under his breath at his embarrassingly cheesy tune pick on their first date.

“Maybe something a little classier.” Stephen worries a lot about what Tony thinks of him, despite what he lets on.

“Just pick something you like. He likes anything you do.”

“That’s not true,” Stephen says, head still down, raking through endless options Debussy? Some Duke Elliot maybe?

“Maybe you shouldn’t get married to him, if you think he would judge something as simple as your music choices.”

His head finally snaps up. “What? You know we have to,” Stephen says, although the words fall flat.

“Marriage out of obligation? Doesn’t sound like you, Stephen.”

He squints at Wong, who out of all people, Stephen didn’t think would be giving him a hard time at this hour. He says, “You know I love him,” voice quiet.

It takes a lot for Stephen to open up most of the time, but Tony’s taught him a lot in the art of shamelessly feeling and just _being_. It can be scary, yes, but also liberating when done right. And loving Tony Stark has been one of the things he can confidently say he has done right, of all the things he’s done in his life. Stephen knows that this type of love doesn’t come easy, to anyone, so with thirty minutes on the clock and no impending disasters (except the one they’re actively working to avoid), there’s a pretty good chance that Tony is feeling confident about this too.

“You okay?” Wong asks, after the brief moment of silence.

“Yeah, I just. I’ve got the perfect song.”

Wong smiles, nodding at him before saying, “Well, play it for me, then.”

 

-

 

The decorations in the main hall are breathtaking. Tony’s usually never speechless when it comes to décor. He’s seen it all, hosted every type of event, party and show under the sun. He thought he could never outdo himself and it turns out that he was right. Strange was the one who ended up doing exactly that.

The entire Sanctum stairway had been transformed into something that looked like something out of Alice in Wonderland. It’s even cooler than usual in the room, and Tony can smell the flowers in the breeze from the mountains of Kamar Taj. He rocks back and forth on his heels ( _oh_ yes, these shoes feel _much_ better) and waits for Strange. He tries not to look at the crowd seated on both sides of the aisle because he’s pretty calm as he is right now, but one glance at someone and he’s pretty sure he’s going to lose it—at least without Strange by his side.

He then sees him, picking up his pace a little as he meets Tony right at the end of the carpet by the front door.

“Sorry I’m late,” Strange says, eyes shifting around, before settling his gaze straight onto Tony. A look of deep admiration. “You look incredible.”

“Oh, thank you,” Tony brushes it off, trying to remind himself how to breathe as he looks at his—almost husband. “Not getting cold feet are you?”

Strange’s eyebrows scrunch together. “Not a chance. Should I be worried about you?”

Tony’s lips quip up into a smile. “No way, baby.”

The walk down the aisle is oddly calming, with light jazz playing in the background. So soothing, Tony thinks. It’s not what he would’ve chosen but it’s absolutely perfect. He feels like he’s been transported somewhere—an island, a small ruin bar in the Mediterranean maybe, with the breeze coming in and the flowers and the lights—wow, those lights. Tony can’t help but look up at the ceiling at the bulbs of light floating around. Are those fireflies?

“Don’t forget to breathe,” Strange mutters softly. Tony takes a deep breath, or two.

“I thought you’ve done this before,” Strange says. “Three-time runaway bride?”

“Not even close to this part.”

“Well, let me take care of everything.” He turns to look at Tony and smiles, gentle and absolutely gorgeous.

They reach the top of the stairs and Wong is ready to officiate. Tony thanks Strange internally for arranging the lights so that he can barely see faces in the audience. It’s like being on stage, a little. Except no part of this is an act and Tony is bullshitting one bit.

When it comes to their vows, Strange goes first:

“Anthony Edward Stark. I was once a lost man. Over the past few years I’ve changed and I reached a place where I thought I knew who I was again, but the fact is, I never truly did until I met you. I could never have known that I could’ve fallen in love with someone this quickly, this sincerely, until, well. Here I am, now, standing before you and everyone else in the crowd. You’re selfless, brave, generous and endlessly kind. People trust you to make the difficult choices when you’re on the line. I can only ask that you make the right one tonight in marrying me. I know that I want to marry you because you are the one constant in my future. I choose you. Now, tomorrow, and forever. I’ll always choose you.”

Tony gets choked up a little. Maybe a lot. He has to take a moment to wipe away a few tears because god, this is all too much and he wants this now but he has to get through his vows, too. Stephen’s smiling at him through a film of tears over his eyes as well, and it really takes everything last drop of willpower within him to not just kiss him right now.

He reminds himself that the faster he gets this over with the faster they’re officially married. Everyone’s waiting for him. He takes a breath. Here goes nothing.

“Stephen Vincent Strange. I am usually terrible at loving people. All my innate flaws seem to just increase exponentially when I find myself, somehow, in a relationship. And then things start to go up in flames and I have this… voice in my head that tells me to run for my life. But I don’t want to be anywhere else when I’m with you. With you, I feel like a semi-competent lover and a decent man. You’re incredible, like everything about you makes me want to be a better person, even though I know that you’ll love me as I am, piping hot mess, and all. Also, that thing you said about me being selfless, might want to change that because in my next line I was just about to say how I like myself much more when I’m with you. Okay, back on track now. I’ve built a lot of things in my lifetime but what’s most important to me now is building our future together. Baby, you’re the only thing I see for miles out in the galaxy. Please take me as your husband, because I need us to be married, like, right now. Oh, and I’ll love you forever and ever.”

Wong smiles at the both of them. Tony’s pretty sure he’s getting all teary-eyed as well, disguising it as a dramatic pause before pronouncing their marriage.

 

-

 

“You finally did it,” Pepper says, taking another glass of champagne off the table. They’d moved the reception to Tony’s Manhattan penthouse because Wong had only granted use of the Sanctum for the ceremony, it being a sacred space, and all. It was generous of him to let them use it at all, to be honest, so Tony’s very thankful for that.

“My vows kind of took several weird and unexpected turns,” Tony says, picking up two more glasses for himself. He hadn’t actually had time to taste the beverages with all the congratulations going around. “But it came out okay, right?”

“It was sweet, Tony. Perfection was really never your thing, anyway.”

He drinks down the glasses and rubs his face. He feels someone tapping on his shoulder and _oh_ , it’s his husband. _Husband._

Tony doesn’t realize he said that out loud until Strange replies with an adorable, “Yes?”

“You’re my husband. We’re married!” Tony says, raising a glass, which earns him a toast from everyone else in the room.

He then notices a woman next to Strange, their arms linked together, who Tony vaguely recognizes, but not really. He’s not at all embarrassed for yelling earlier.

“Tony, meet Christine. She finally booked a day off from the night shift, after months of trying to get ahold of her.”

“Congratulations,” she says, as Tony gets a better look at her. She’s pretty. Fits perfectly in Stephen’s arms in a rather endearing way.

“Of course, _the_ Dr. Palmer. Pleasure to meet you.” They exchange a few words and Tony quickly realizes why Stephen likes her. She’d get along well with Pepper, Tony thinks, and makes a mental note to introduce the two later. Far in the background, Tony spots Steve wandering in with Sharon and Jessica. He’d been wondering where they went after the ceremony. It’s been a full thirty minutes since most of the other guests arrived.

He saunters over to them and Sharon is the first to go in for a hug. “So sorry we’re late. Tony, that ceremony was incredible.” 

“Did you all get lost along the way?” Tony laughs, wheezing as she squeezes a little too tightly around his neck. She lets go and Tony gives her a genuine smile, “Thank you, my darling.”

He’s always liked Sharon. Even during her brief fling with Steve, they had kept a mutual respect for each other. As much as he wished things were different with Steve at the time, he also wished things were different with Sharon, too. They’d known each other when they were kids, until Howard and Aunt Peggy had a falling out and their families stopped seeing each other. At least it’s never to late to reconnect.

“Tony,” Steve says, pulling him into a tentative hug. It’s slow and unsure at first, but Tony manages a firm grip around the other man’s back.

“I am truly happy for you,” Steve says, and Tony believes him. Maybe things aren’t going to be so bad after all.

He catches a glimpse of Jessica’s wandering eyes. “Still up for making friends?”

She purses her lips and gives him a hint of a smile. “Not usually my scene, but the wedding was cute. Congratulations.”

He sees Mantis from across the room feeling Strange’s hands before she cries in his arms. Tony flinches, heart sinking for a second, but then she sees a warm smile on her face. They press their forehead together as Strange conjures up some butterflies for her, glowing like fireflies in the room.

 Quill is dancing away on his feet, spinning, dipping Pepper (who hasn’t been this drunk and this happy in a long time) and trying to teach Bruce how to loosen up. Some old slow romantic song starts playing in the background. Bruce seems to tense up a little until Drax and Mantis start to dance with him.

He’s still holding out hope for Gamora out there. Because of the time loop Strange put them in, he never really knew what happened at Vormir; the last thing him (and the rest of the Guardians) remember was losing Gamora and the reality stone to Thanos at Knowhere and scrambling together to make a quick dash to Earth. They still don’t know Thanos the Soul Stone. They all know something’s wrong but can’t seem to put their finger on it. It feels wrong because it is. It’s the exact same thing Tony felt upon discovering what had happened with Strange. They both know how crucial Quill is to their success, though, and they can’t jeopardize that, not now.

“You’re quite the cowboy casanova, nowadays,” Nat says, appearing from seemingly nowhere. Every single time.

“You know how much of a romantic I am,” Tony says.

“He seems to be, too.” Nat nods towards Strange, who’s talking to Pepper, kissing her hand softly. 

“Well, I guess it’s all peachy around here.”

Nat gives him a shrug that really doesn’t instill great confidence in Tony.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing." 

“Ms. Romanoff, I know you’re a better liar than that.”

“T’Challa’s been picking up some—signals, shall we say, from over in Wakanda." 

“What kind of signals are we talking about, Nat.“

“The Thanos kind.”

“Of course it’s the Thanos kind.” He’s expected this, of course, they all have. Tony doesn’t know how everyone is doing it—including him for a moment back there—acting like everything’s fine. He runs over to Strange, pulling him away from Jessica and Sharon.

“Could I steal my husband for a second,” Tony says.

“Of course,” Sharon says. Jessica eyes them down as they walk away.

“So, Nat told me that we might have an upcoming situation. They’re picking up signals from Wakanda. We’ve been planning this for a while but say Thanos arrives right this very second, would you and Wong be ready to go with our plan? Perfectly executed, I think we’ll have a real chance—“

“Tony, I know.” Strange holds him still by the shoulders, smoothing out the creases on his suit. He looks worried, but apparently not enough to elaborate.

“What?”

“I know about the signals. Wanda’s been updating me on what’s been happening over there.”

Tony should just give up on being surprised at other people being in on things at this point. “Well then, we better get ready.”

“Wait, I want to show you something.”

Tony opens his mouth to protest, but Strange just teleports them up to the rooftop. They stand on the edge as he watches the entire city of New York beneath them, bustling and beating like any other night. The roads are filled with strangers, cars moving in all sorts of directions, leaving light trails behind them and sounds bouncing off each other's in echoes.

“You’ve shown me more outrageous things, come on, darling.”

“We’ve been through a lot of outrageous things, yes, but beauty exists in the simple things.” Strange casts a spell over the entire city beneath them, as everything turns into a monochrome grid. Tony almost can’t believe it at first.

It’s a live map, with traces of light, yellow shadows of their glittering ghosts in the wind, moving around the city, tracing every single moment they’ve ever spent together. The Sanctum is absolutely buzzing with circles of light, as is his apartment, considering how much time they spend there. But there are other places as well—diners, Chinese restaurants, even a park where Strange brought Tony out once to help him meditate. He even sees a trail of light shooting up to the atmosphere above from when they got roped into an alien spaceship with Peter. Every step they’ve ever made, every kiss, every embrace is documented in the pollinated sparks of the magic dust moving through the city air.

“It’s beautiful,” Tony says, looking back at Strange. “I want to dance with you.”

Strange raises an eyebrow. “Here?" 

“No, downstairs. We’re supposed to do a first dance kind of thing, you know, as newlyweds. I want to dance with my husband.”

Strange bites down a smile and nods. “I do, too.”

As they dance in the centre of the room, Tony thinks that the universe could end right now and everything would be perfect as it is. But that’s the exact thing they’re trying to prevent, unfortunately.

“I wish we had more time,” Tony says, swaying in the gentle embrace of his husband’s arms. “I wish we had the kind of time to waste on things that don’t matter.”

“I wish we had more time too,” Strange says. “It’s not looking good in Wakanda. Nothing solid as of yet, but… it’s coming, Tony. Could be, pretty much, any second now.”

He pulls Tony in closer until their hips are touching, as Tony swiftly slides his hands up his arms and shoulders and back down over his chest. Strange puts on his best smile, even though Tony sees the worry in his eyes.

He strokes his beard gently, trying to instill some confidence to him. “We’re all ready, though, aren’t we?”

Strange nods, glancing around the room filled with an array of super spies, soldiers, mutants, sorcerers and all sorts of superheroes. Everyone looks happy, and it’s hard to believe given the circumstances but this is what it’s all about—fighting for the people you love, and there’s no questioning who he loves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm much more used to referring to Stephen as, well, Stephen now and not Strange but I feel we're too far in the fic to change that so... RIP
> 
> I've been MIA due to LIFE in general but I do plan on finishing this, just please bear with my sporadic updates! let me know if you're enjoying the story, even if you're new here, kudos and comments are always appreciated! x


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